:: 2004 19 December :: 6.24 pm

I hate what this journal has become, actually . . .

myxomatosis

:: 2004 16 December :: 11.09 pm

mi'more

thank you thank you fucking thank you. you have no idea how much this one stupid thing means. thank you. for everything.

tears almost, but the good kind. it flows in me like reverse drowning.

myxomatosis

:: 2004 12 December :: 12.37 pm

Hah. Hah. And the funny/stupid part is, if I'd just checked my bloody e-mail, I'd have something to do for the evening.

Um, god. I feel so fucking isolated here. No car, nowhere to walk [no bloody sidewalks!] No one I can relate to. No one I can call. Jim's usually working or whatever . . . Shi I have always refused to use as a pick-me-up . . . even though she is . . . miss being able to call Dan and demand that he come spend time with me when I was twitchy. It was good, just having somebody there. Random goddamn conversations about fantasy serieses and whatever.

I dunno. I mean maybe. Eventually. An rp group I've seen all of once is closer to friends than the guys I spend twelve hours a day with four days a week? With the people who live in the same building that I do? Well, shit. Sorry. I'm realizing that I really cannot get along with anyone who isn't at least a half-breed nerd. And none of these people would know Thac0 if it bit them in the ass.

Poo. Pitypartypityparty.

myxomatosis

:: 2004 2 December :: 7.30 pm

And always this hope in the back of my mind. That if I can just be good enough to matter. If I can be strong enough, beautiful enough, fragile enough, perfect enough, I'll matter. And when I say matter. I mean.

Well, you know.

But I'm a fool for believing it. I can never add up to any of them.

myxomatosis

:: 2004 2 December :: 3.32 pm

the adrenaline hits and she coughs for a few instants, bleeding off the energy until i can think again. hissing rasping breath and my arms feel like they're made of molten lead.

i make a noise, and she leaps across the room to bury my face in cement. her mouth is open, but there are no words, no reason for the words. we both know my mistake, she simply growls out her frustration and leaves me to soak into the floor.

it hits, again and again and again, for as long as i'll let it. always this. knowledge. backhand to the fucking face, but not from her, no, from the idea itself. it does more damage than she ever would.

her screams are mine. her arms around my neck are comforting. the walls shake as i collapse in a corner, and she just paces, on fire on fire on fire.

finally, the words that we all knew were coming.

never trust again. never. never fall again. never allow yourself to be used like that. never be their . . . she drops the hand, sighing. a look a question. just. please. stop doing this to us?

i'll try. i'll try and i'll fail and it will destroy me in the end. but i've got to try. in the end, being heartless would not be so bad, when it's compared to this.

myxomatosis