Stranger

Journal

I’m angry at you for leaving.

But, everyone knows anger is a secondary emotion.

I’m sad that you left.

Sadness is an affliction. My sadness comes and goes, I only miss you sometimes. Like when I’m sitting at my favorite coffee shop back home, thinking about how you’d like it. Or when I see the croissants I used to bring you after work.

But sadness eventually dissipates and every other person I’ve broken up with is a distant memory now. One day you will be too.

But right now I think about how you would love it here.

I’ve slept with a lot of guys since you, seen even more- but I still use you as a timeline.

One day I’ll wake up and I’ll think of you as a stranger again.

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Closed

Journal

I have so many emotions, but it’s mostly just pain right now.

My heart literally aches. I couldn’t stand up or keep my eyes open at work. I was crying so much.

I got so used to having T around.

But I’m also really mad at him for just giving up like that. I know he can’t help that he’s just done, but from my perspective he just gave up. Stopped trying. I was willing to do anything to help the relationship, and he wouldn’t even bother to talk about it.

I deserve better than that.

One day I’ll be with someone who gives me what I deserve. One day someone will treat me right and I’ll look back and wonder how I ever accepted so little effort from someone.

Because he didn’t put a lot into our relationship, I didn’t ask him to. Yet I put my entire self into it, I made him a priority and I shouldn’t have. I gave him way too much of myself too fast, I shouldn’t have been with him every day. I shouldn’t have been so available.

Next time I won’t. Not until I have been with them a long time and they’ve proven they care too.

Those four months felt like a year. I haven’t accepted it’s over yet.

Annoyance

Journal

I had to go to work today, but my mind is anywhere but on the floor. I’ve cried about once every hour since clocking on, and I’m pretty sure everyone is worried about me but I can’t help it. I had a customer come behind the counter just to hug me, and all my coworkers are trying to cheer me up, which is nice.

I’m cold, though. I’m freezing. Pretty sure I’ve gotten myself sick because I’m so stressed. I guess the good news is that I don’t have to repress my attraction to Sheldon anymore. I hate to admit it’s even there but I won’t lie to myself about it.

Pretty sure he’s just an asshole like every other guy out there, though.

What is it about men? Literally they are so selfish and inconsiderate. I’ve never been with a guy who actually put thought into me.

God, my physical state is so bad. I’ve been throwing up, and not just because I felt sick. I did it at first because I was so worked up, but then it felt so good. It felt like I was getting rid of everything bad inside of me.. and I actually felt relieved after.

It’s so unhealthy. I know it is.

Especially because I haven’t eaten since Wednesday afternoon. I’ve been drinking water, but my throat feels so dehydrated from the throwing up that it doesn’t help at all. I’m sneezing, coughing, dehydrated, starving but no desire to eat. And I’m cold. So fucking cold. I can’t get warm. The worst part is no one knows, it’s not like anyone is around to notice and there’s no way I’ll tell my family. But I’ve lost so much weight.

My manager just gave me an entire bottle of scotch though, and it’s like nice-ish scotch. So that’s gonna be fun. The last thing I need on an empty stomach but ya know that’s not gonna stop me. Maybe it will help. Honestly anything to help me forget how lonely I am.

I just want someone to hold me all night. Anyone but T.. god, he’s such an inconsiderate douche. He didn’t communicate, he led me on to believe we would actually work on our problems, and then out of nowhere he’s just like “over it, I’m done” which is the most immature thing I have ever had to deal with in a relationship.

I don’t think he ever actually cared about me. I think he might actually be emotionally incapable of feeling things, low key a sociopath. He never really emphasized. He just was about fucking. and the way he handled our breakup is low key emotional abuse, he cut me off out of nowhere and wouldn’t talk.

Anyway. Glad I can move my life on from him.

Update

Journal

I haven’t seen T in a week, and it’s going to be at least four more days until we see each other again.

I’m tired. I’m cranky. Moody. Whatever words you want to use..

He didn’t make me orgasm the entire week before this too. I got used to expecting it to happen.. and then it just didn’t.

He finished fast, I wasn’t enjoying the sex as much, I started zoning out. I don’t know. Just sort of lost its oomph.

And so here I am, two weeks without having an orgasm. I’m angry. Easily frustrated. Honestly? Wondering if this relationship has what it takes to last.

T is in Oregon looking at colleges. I’m back home, dealing with the frustration and anger that comes with being near Leo again.

I don’t want to go back to the city- it’s nasty and cold and gloomy. I only really know T and my roommates outside of work- and work is honestly just awful. I hate it.

Riley thinks I have depression, and I think she’s right. I get really sad, and cry a lot. Irritable.

I’m wondering if it’s the birth control. Or maybe it’s just me.

Whatever it is, I’m incredibly stressed and want it to be over.

I’ve had an entire week off of everything except family.

Not sure if that counts as a vacation.

I’m also sick, which is wonderful.

× en·er·gy

Journal

I feel disconnected from the world.

T left me on read for four hours after I told him I got my barista certification.

I try so hard for him, I put in so much fucking effort for him, and then I get hit with that?

I said I was gonna make an apple pie from scratch for him and his family this thanksgiving, but like? Why? I wanted to, but only if I feel like there is equal effort put in. I don’t really.

I let this guy finish inside me after I’ve been done for a few minutes already. I fucking shower before I see him every time with no exceptions – and we hang out all the goddamn time. I’m out here shaving my legs everyday for him. Bringing him and his family leftover pastries when I close- I give them my coffee mark-outs from work. Like. I pay for him almost everywhere we go, I’m sucking his dick, I’m getting to know his little brother.

And he left me on read for four hours after I told him good news.

Alright, buddy.

Then you leave me on read? Really?

Fucking thought my birthday was on the wrong day. And on top of that he admitted he forgot to get me a gift?

It’s OKAY for those things to happen, but telling me them is just like rubbing in my face how much you don’t care.

I told him my birthday. More than once.

I’m tired. I feel like I deserve more than that.

He just told me that he didn’t respond because he found out his brother won’t be coming home for thanksgiving. So why didn’t he just message me that when he found out? Why didn’t he just communicate this?

Everywhere I look I feel like I’m making up signs that we won’t work. I don’t want them to be there, I’ve just become so cautious in my relationships. I’ve been broken by so many people, I’m always looking for the cues I thought I missed before..

Getting left on read was one of them. Watching the other person slowly lose interest in you.

On the outside I look totally calm, but inside it’s this downward spiral inside my chest that’s sickening. I feel awful.

What if I look back one day and shake my head for being such a dumb bitch? Willing to do what it takes to make something work when the other person wasn’t working nearly as hard?

I guess I don’t know what went down with his brother ((still waiting for him to respond to me about that)) – but if I can find time to message him on days that I work 8+ hours and having a mental breakdown, I feel like he can message me on a day when he was probably just cleaning his room before thanksgiving and dealing with whatever family drama is going down.

I’m giving him the most – I shouldn’t be when he isn’t doing the same.

Chronic

Journal

Can you feel it? Seeping in through your pores? Crawling up your spine as an ache? Disguised as the creaking of your joints, it settles in.

You cannot escape it.

Sitting up, your back ceases. You cannot move. The bags under your eyes have gained weight. Your temples begin to pulse.

Dehydration. Chronic exhaustion. Your body needs rest, water, food.

Life does not permit. There are bills to be paid, groceries to be bought, work to be done, chores that go neglected, school work that sits on the desk though the week.

Once you get home, though the intention was there to do these things, you fall into bed and cannot rise.

There is no time. It has been stolen from you, your life, these precious hours have been plucked like daisies of last year. You had no choice.

Resilience

Journal

I need something more to show for my effort in life. I also need to be less passionate about the people I have feelings for. Right? That poses a moral dilemma for me, though. I should allow myself to wholly be myself. But I also like people, and I know I came off too strong with Leo and not strong enough with Tristan- because I was worried about seeming clingy. Now, Jacob has me all mixed up, I don’t know how to act around him- so I was awkward and mixed my words around like a fucking blender. I’m frustrated. This whole situation is frustrating. So he’s gone for a month- to Nevada and then somewhere else (I think Europe..?).

He intimidates me, only 20 and already has a legitimate career because he’s got this incredible brain. He didn’t even have to go to college or anything. That’s a quality I hold in high regard, it’s something that I respect. However, it also means he’s never had a minimum wage job and one can only have so much life expirience without that. That makes him less genuine to me. He’s got this socially awkward thing going on, but gets away with it because he’s attractive and has a sense of style.

Weird thing happened though, after sex he almost cried. He didn’t, but I could see it in his eyes. Maybe he was holding back a sneeze? And he kissed my forehead during sex– which I’m not used to having any sort of emotional connection or attachment and it caught me off guard. But he also hasn’t talked to me for two days straight and he’s supposedly back home packing to move to San Francisco, but I’m not sure I trust him. I don’t know that I believe he’ll see me once he comes back. Maybe I was too cold?? Too harsh? I know I can be. Maybe he just doesn’t like me.

Our interactions made me insecure- I didn’t feel like I was enough. And it didn’t help that I was rude to him. I use it as a defense mechanism when I feel threatened…

When we first started talking two years ago, I felt this same way and it trigger the biggest personality change in me. I grew a thicker skin and overall became resilient. But how am I supposed to know he won’t hurt me like that again and ghost me? I know he mentioned thinking I was less awkward and more attractive than him, but he did it once before.

I would be an idiot to think he wouldn’t.

I learned to put less value on guys perception of me. It would hurt to have him ignore me again. I need validation and hate to ask for it. I wish I was stronger.

Toxic

Journal

I care. Probably too much. He’s not even in my life anymore and I question how genuinely he cared about me. It’s always in the back of my head that he might have just kept me around for someone to fill his time with and sleep with cause technically that’s all we were. Maybe I’m incapable of having something casual and no strings attached. That’s what it was supposed to be.

I’m too emotionally involved. He doesn’t care.

I just need to move on..

but I don’t want to let go of how I feel.

Nothing is worse than caring about someone more than they care about you- but I feel like that sums up how my feelings for people generally play out.

That cavernous ache in my chest is back. I’m alone. I’ll probably always end up alone. The only thing worse than being alone is feeling like you finally found someone and then they just stop being around. Or they never cared about you in the first place.

Reminding myself why I’m not alright, why I haven’t succeeded, why I’m fucked up. Wondering how much of it is a choice. Could I have changed any of this? Is it just my destiny to be a loner?

I guess it’s just who I am. Awkward, dysfunctional, toxic, and in the end, alone.

aim·less

Journal

Everyone I talk to tells me exactly why they don’t like me. I am constantly being told why I am not a good person and then I look at girls like her and I can understand why no one would ever want me. I’m just not a good person. It’s moments like these that I have to really fight not finally killing myself, that I remind myself how many times I didn’t give in to the temptation. But is life worth living if you hate yourself and people around you hate you too?

The sad truth is that no one was around when I would throw away my belongings because I was planning on killing myself and didn’t want other people to have to go through the emotional distress of getting rid of the dead girl’s things. No one was around when I wrote the drafts of my suicide notes. No one was talking to me when I had a knife to my throat, or pills in my hand, or when I tried to drown myself. Nobody ever bothers to genuinely ask how I am. I’m not okay. I haven’t been okay. But I consistently hear from people saying that I’m a waste of their time, that they know why they broke up with me, that I am the worst person they know. It seems like everyone has the time to tell me what’s wrong with me, but no one has the time to care about me.

I feel like that’s a problem of mine. I get constant badgering of why I’m not good, yet no one has ever bothered to love me. Not my parents or my siblings or even my friends. I’m fucking alone. It’s a miracle I’m alive today and nobody realizes how close I have come to dying. Not even just dying. How close I’ve come to killing myself. I feel like I don’t have a place in the world. I feel unwanted.

I don’t need anyone to love me, I’ve proven that just by living, but it would be nice if they did me the decency of not actively trying to upset me.

Let me binge drink in the shower alone. Let me do my fucking job. Let me be the vindictive and self destructive person I am in peace. Let me be alone. I might never be happy, I’ll never be carefree and good, and you’ll never love me.

I know you’ll never love me. I can hardly find it in me to love myself.

Bare Bulbs

Journal

She pulled some old foil from a paper bag filled with trash. The paper bag had been serving as a trash can in her home – by Home, she was living in a glorified garden shed with a single, bare light bulb hanging from the ceiling. She slept on a naked mattress that may have been mistakenly placed there at some point – no framework, no sheets, nothing to give intention. Beetles often would crawl through baseboards, up her walls, and greet her face to face in bed. Foil in hand, she fashioned it into a makeshift spoon – her family back home kept calling to see if they needed anything. She always said no. Ashamed to admit that her single can of beans would be opened with a pocket knife and consumed cold with a spoon made from the old seal of a long forgotten tub of yogurt. Underneath a bare light bulb, in a garden shed, on top of a hill, in a city that reeked of placidity.


His face contorted by anger, screaming something about how ungrateful they were. She hit pause on the moment, collecting herself. Just how many times had she found herself in this place; A man, a mother’s lover, threatening her safety with harsh words and violence? How many more times would she let it happen? Unpause. He grabs a cup and throws it against the kitchen wall in her direction, it was a gift from her grandma. The answer was “no more”. A sister was having convulsions in the corner, nothing had ever filled her with so much rage. No one should treat them like this. Trembling, sobbing, her older sister being enclosed with a hug. No more. No more. He had run from the scene, perhaps to cleanse himself of the murder he had just committed, yet he still yelled. You better fucking leave or I’ll make you regret it. / A threat. / The last threat. / Fucking try me, little bitch. / No response. / Coward. / Her sister’s eyes were glossed over, all but black. A voidness she had never encountered before. Running upstairs, she grabbed the first duffel bag she saw and stuffed it with clothing – she would never come back. She wasn’t sure where she was going, but she would not stay here.