silver4's Diaryland Diary

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and it's only monday?

R:

you. you swear you are amazing. you swear you are the shit. it doesn't help that i've pined after your dumb ass. it doesn't help that i still act like an idiot around you and yearn for your attention. i'm very satisfied with the fact that this is ending and i can be that much closer to disregarding everything about us for all time. in a way, it's sad. in another way, it's a relief. i am leaning on the side of relief because that's the healthier way. no matter what, it's a damn shame that you and i are how we are to one another. it's both of our faults. yet all this time, i only felt the need to blame myself. because you looked oh so comfortable on that high horse of yours. you made it seem like it was your pedestal and that i was just an adoring visitor, staring up at you and pleading to be closer to you and all your mystery.

but there's little things i know about you that you don't want people to realize.

like the fact that you are also affected. like the fact that you can be touched. like the way you want people to think that it's all so easy for you, well it's not. because there are some things that you are really just fucking up on, my dear. one of them is yourself. another one is me. because you are listening to them. because you aren't listening to you. i was there when you listened to yourself. i was there. I WAS FUCKIN THERE. in the end, i am not the bad person. i was the light that you were afraid to turn on in yourself. and i'm still here. just in case you feel like illuminating your life. i am still here. otherwise, it's straight to your other plan, which i find to be a complete mistake.

sometimes i wonder about the goodbye. i wonder if i will have to say it as blankly as i do everything else with you these days, completely devoid of emotion and sincerity. i am still wondering why you were so important to me in the first place.

M:

i don't really want you anymore. i love the sex. i love the fun. i don't love the way i feel. i don't love feeling empty. being with you compensates for my not being with anyone else, but it's not enough. you think it's funny. you think it's amusing, the fact that your girl is suspicious of me and jealous of me, and calls me your girlfriend, and says that i get the wrong idea of what you want (because it's actually the right idea). you always want to touch me, and i don't like being touched. i've told you that before. i don't want anyone to touch me without my permission. you think it's cute to briefly touch me here and there, because it's secretive and fun and nobody knows and ha ha fuckin ha. it's my fuckin body. i might be an exhibitionist and i might show off and dance around and call for attention, but when it's serious time, i don't want to be touched. there is no advantage you get from fucking me other than the fact that i let you fuck me. and that is going to end soon as far as i'm concerned. i don't like that you say you love me. it annoys me. it disgusts me. it's just... irritating. don't say you love me. i don't believe you, and i hate feeling like i have to do the nice thing and say shit like i love you too. i don't. i don't love anyone right now. no man has hold of my heart. and if one did, i would not accept it if he also had hold of some other lady's heart.

me:

i'm just being a bitch. i don't care. i'm in a bad mood and i'm allowed to be. i'm sitting here drinking my lovely beer. beer is kind to me. it fucks up my body and makes me sick, but you know what? i love it. it's always there for me when i need it. or if it's not, i just have to go to the corner store, and there i will find it again.

i don't want to care when i talk to R. i don't want to be cared about when i am with M. he's a good friend though. i want us to only be friends. i love him as a friend. i love everyone as a friend. i appreciate who people are to me. i just wish people felt the same towards me.

both of my roommates have guys who they are sort of talking to/potentially dating right now. and then there is me.

this reminds me of this comic strip that i have on my door. it's of these two cats, the strip is called shelter stories. cat #1 asks "how come nobody ever picks me?" cat #2: "maybe they're looking for something different..." and shrugs. cat #1 flips upside down and stands on his head and says "pick me."

it sounds funny. it's cute. hell, it's a comic. they're in an animal shelter and that's why they want to be chosen, of course (shelter stories... yeah), but i always saw it differently, and that's why i saved it from the newspaper. i don't even read comics, i just saw it one random day years ago (7 years ago apparently). but i feel like cat #1 sometimes. oftentimes. i feel like i'm flipping around, standing on my head, hoping for a little attention so that somebody (ideally somebody desired) will pick me. lame. i know. i don't care.

ah. found it.

http://muttscomics.com/art/images/daily/110603.gif

and on that note, i shall finish my beer and move on to the ice cream. because i can.

9:28 p.m. - 2010-04-05

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