So Chet came over again last night, we didn’t sleep together, but we watched Netflix and fell asleep next to each other. He’s cute but I just don’t like him. It was super awkward, and he must think that I have the lowest sex drive ever, because I’ve refused to have sex twice now. Last night I woke up around 2am to him trailing his fingers down my back, but when I woke up I thought it was T. I realized it him wasn’t pretty fast, but it just made me want to cry. I wanted it to be T. It didn’t smell like him. He didn’t breath like him. He didn’t touch me the way T did.
So I asked Chet to go home at 2am, I feel like an asshole.
My heart hurts. I don’t want to go home, but I definitely don’t want to be in San Francisco without T. Going home makes sense, but I’m worried that I won’t be happy.
I just want to be in love again. Everything feels right when I’m in love. Right now I don’t. Everything feels so wrong. I feel so sad. I feel angry. I feel unsure. I don’t know if I’m doing the right thing for myself by moving.
But the only thing I can say for certain is that I do want the peace I felt when dating T.
But I can’t have that. So I guess feeling disagreeable is just how I am going to feel for a while.
And that makes me angry. I can’t control this stuff. Nothing fucking feels right. I can’t even find music that I like listening to right now. I’m mad about everything. I’m mad about stuff ending, I’m mad about the future, I’m mad at the past, I’m just so goddamn angry that things changed.
This isn’t like me. Normally I just accept shit for what it is. I move on. I gain insight.
But I’m just fucking mad right now. I honestly want to yell as loud as I can. I want to punch shit.
Right now anger is turmoil. Hysterical dread. Annoyed and resentful. Hostile. It is agony. Isolation. Grief.
I am angry. I am sad. I am afraid.
I guess that’s why I keep having Chet over, he holds me. At least that helps ease the sadness sometimes. It helped me for a little bit, but I know it’s just a bandaid for the real problem. I don’t want to be alone again. I didn’t fucking want any of this pain. I felt so stable.
I don’t know what I’m angry at. The world? The fact that pain exists at all? At change? At hope? Maybe a little of all of them.
I am tired of struggling. I am over feeling drained.