on dealbreakers

me:  there's a cute boy here who i could potentially be interested in

but i think i vetoed it because he uses 'your' instead of 'you're'

 Elliot:  oh shit

you can't date someone like that

he would never be able to understand you're world view

 me:  i hate you, go die

step up yo game, playa

forget it. done. moving forward.

misery time was fun for a while, time to grow a pair of balls and work toward something worth a shit.

relapses to come. comebacks sure to follow.

complet

I miss being full. in all senses of the word.

physically, i miss eating regularly, and in healthy quantities with a big appetite. even though i want to be full, i either dont feel like it or can't bring myself to care.

being emotionally full, bursting with laughter. those deep belly laughs where you can't stop, or waking up and drifting back to sleep in someone's arms. having engaging and meaningful and meaningless conversations all wrapped up in one, over dinner-- feeling ...affection.

i miss the full days. spending the whole day with someone, always having them to hang out with and go home to and never, ever, ever being sick of seeing them. i would say one of the hardest things to get used to has been coming home to an empty apartment and eating/sleeping alone. i never had a problem with it in college, but i never knew what it was like otherwise. watching lets plays on youtube is just... it just depresses me.

I MISS NOT POSTING EVERY DAY ABOUT ANGSTY SHIT GOD DAMMIT

can we just stop this, seriously, i can't even

remembering things clearly:

SUCH. AN ASSHOLE, OH MY GOD

not sure how much this is the bitterness talking, but i bet your friends think you're an idiot for letting me go too.

forgo the parable

ugh. terrible day.
missed a 3 hour meeting on top of everything else at work lately, so management's been watching me like a hawk. and acting all passive aggressively, jesus christ. give it a rest, will you, ladies?

i caved and went on his facebook again today. he's sick :/

i just thought, no one would be there to make sure he eats well. i wanted to make him homemade chicken soup like my mom always would, and curry, and brush his hair from his forehead.

and then maybe i'd feel a little better, being there with him too, from my terrible terrible day.

i know that he wants his freedom and not to feel like he's settling or something.

but sometimes for the life of me i just can't see how it would be better for either of us.

it really pains me. i wish there were a way to be less... nurturing. ugh.

to make you feel my love

Strangely enough, one of the most helpful things has been foroud's writing.

Mon petit moineau, perdu à jamais

c’est la nuit à nouveau

les oiseaux se taisent

j’écris des tragédies

tandis que vous posez, loin

rêver d’autres