5 weeks.

i've gotten very good at faking it.

2:24 am

crying
crying
crying.

i told God because there was
no one else to tell.

wish i didn't always want to be
someone else.
it's exhausting.

3 weeks.

i'm not doing so great,
but i'm not doing so bad,
either.

when the only thing you can think of
that will make you feel better is
sleep,
you've got a problem.

looks like i've got a problem.

is that going to be ok with you?

no.

i'm not fine.
i haven't been for awhile now.

congratulations,
you broke me.
i can't sleep without pills &
i've started seeing a therapist.
i pretty much hate myself now.

sobering, isn't it.

you stole my summer from me, you
bastard.

i wish i'd never met you.

i've had my fair share of
good days
recently &
i can't even really talk about how
refreshing
that is.
& you're starting to fade.
!!!
your memory is finally
starting to fade.
i can't even really begin to
express how excited i am to
forget.
overjoyed.
thrilled.
beside myself with happiness.
it's really finally happening.
i didn't think it would, or that
it could.
but it is.
thank all that is holy that
it is.

my life.

listening to music and
pretending to be ok.

melodramatic.
yep.

news flash.

i spend too much time alone.

my worst fear is that
i am one of the
awkward
boring
generic
people that i just can't stand being around.

it is hard for me
to feel special fun or cool
in this stupid town

i miss you so much i can't breathe.
i wasn't good enough for you.
i'm not cool enough.
i'm not fun enough.
i'm not dynamic enough.
i'm just not enough.

i had no one else to tell
so i'm writing it here.

help.

2 weeks & a day.

it is going to take a lot longer than i thought to
get over you.

damn.

oh
i feel so very empowered.
yes.
yes!
i deserve so much more
than what you gave me.
i realize that now.
have a nice life.

sometimes
i look around &
all i see is beauty.
& it scares me a little
(maybe not scares,
but it definitely throws me off)
because
it's so different
from the way i normally feel.

today has actually
surprisingly
been a very good day.
a breath of fresh air,
really.
i'm doing everything i can
to keep it here.
i need the hope so badly,
you know.
so very badly.

i'm scared it won't happen for me,
that's always been the issue.
i'm scared the right guy for me
just isn't out there.
i mean, it's failed enough times
it makes sense for me to think that
i just wish i would try harder to
believe.

time has literally slowed down
or maybe even stopped.
i can't escape my thoughts
& i'm sick of being alone.
it's so hot & i feel
stifled &
sick &
really just done with all of this.
i'm done with feeling depressed &
i'm done with doubting myself &
mostly i'm done
with you.

some days are better than others.

today i was haunted by memories.

super.

i was doing so well
but why did i have to
dream about you
last night?
unnecessary.

i'm reading over what i've written
recently
& i actually
don't hate it.
this is quite shocking to me,
if i'm honest.
i'm actually kind of
.... proud of it?
am i allowed to say that?
i don't know,
but i'm saying it.
i think i deserve to be proud.
so suck on that,
shitty self-esteem.
look at me now.

today
was the first time
i could listen to songs
that remind me of you
without my heart sinking
& just hurting so much.
it doesn't seem like anything,
but for me
it's quite at triumph.
i was actually filled with so much
hope, instead.
what?
ok, i'll take it.
i'll take the hope because
it feels so good compared
to what i've been
going through recently.

whew.

love--

it all seems a bit overrated,
doesn't it?

(this is what i tell myself
to feel better)

boring and inevitable.

'i don't have any questions
i don't think it's gonna rain
you were right about the end
it didn't make a difference'


just realized this is talking about us.


a sinking feeling.
how awful.

desperation.

those moments when literally all you can do is
pray.

you know which ones i mean.

7:24 pm

lying there in the grass
everything became
just a tiny bit
clearer.

i just wish there weren't
so many reminders.
i can't listen to love songs.
i can't watch jurassic park, or
slumdog millionaire, or any
foreign films, or anything
R rated.
i can't hear about things that
happen in portland, or
people's camping outings, or listen to
tegan & sara
the yeah yeah yeahs
empire of the sun, or
so many other artists.
you really did slither your way
into every single part of my life,
& i literally can't get you out.
i know it's only been 10 days,
but you're like a nasty,
permeating
stain that's been festering for
days, even months,
and i'm desperately trying to get it out,
using every method i can think of.
but for some reason,
you're stubborn, & you
refuse to come out.
you just won't leave me alone,
will you.

it's been 10 days since you left.
it seems like it's been 100.
i don't know what that means.
shouldn't you be gone by now?
from my head, i mean
all i really want is for you
to leave my head.
if you leave my head, i
never have to face you again
because i sure as hell
am not going to seek you out
in real life.
get out.
i mean it, get out.
you're not welcome here
a single second longer.

optimism.

this is me,
pretending like things are going to get better
soon.

tower.

things look better from up here.
it's easier not to visualize
your face and hear
your voice and see
your house and be
totally and completely
surrounded by you
one hundred percent of the time.
it's got to get better.
it's going to get better.
right?

today i thought about
how nice it would be
to have a quiet mind.
i have a racing mind,
and a quiet demeanor.
i can't help thinking
that there's a better way to be.
i never feel like
i have the energy
to do much
of anything
at all.

i feel weird about talking too much
like, i'm only allotted a certain amount of words
per day, and
if i go over
then some horrible
inexplicable
terrible
unknown
thing will happen.

i don't know why.

punch in the gut.

i'll just be sitting or
thinking or
sitting and thinking and
i'll hear something,
whirl around,
& you'll be right there,
in my face,
fists flailing.

i'll just be reading or
watching a film,
minding my own damn business, and
i'll hear a rustling,
turn quickly,
& there you are,
staring me down,
fist in my face.

"you can't stay here, you know.
you can't keep showing up like this."
but you are just silent,
because all you want to do is
fight.

sitting
listening to you talk
for an hour
and another hour
hour
hour
hour
until my eyes are glazed over
and my mouth is dry
and my hands are numb
and there's nothing left to do but
wait. (and nod)

blunt affect.

i need to work on
getting more excited
about things.

children playing in the snow
so carefree & blissfully happy
no school & there is just
nowhere they'd rather be.
but years pass suddenly
& there is no distinct line
between that time &
the time when i would
rather sit inside, warm & nice
reading a book by the fire.
we're older but are we wiser?

we're passing by all these
rows & rows of houses
some are the same
some different
& i just sit & wonder
who's sitting inside
& what they're doing
what they're feeling
& honestly, if they're happy
is this the life they wanted?
because i know for most people
it's not.