Infatuation Station.

Y’know what I’m sick of? Melodramatic adults acting like troubled teenagers. I’m sorry that you also struggle with mental illness, I’m sorry that your life isn’t “perfect” – but c’mon. Cut me some slack. I have my own issues, my own qualms, and to be expected to deal with another’s is absurd.

I’m not going to deal with people that are a hassle anymore, because I’m worth more than that. I met a guy who makes me feel that way, y’know.

Well, actually, I’ve met quite a few. But this one has reignited that familiar feeling, that funny familiar feeling, that feeling I haven’t felt for some time.. I’m sure you know it. The one that makes your days feel like a decadent cake with buttercream icing, rather than a bag of potatoes. And they don’t even have to be physically apart of the day. You could day dream for hours or days or forever, and it just feels so exciting and good.

Of course, he isn’t my boyfriend. Or well, even my friend.

I’ve pulled into infatuation station, and let me tell you how it happened.

It’s the same story as any. You meet, you click, you talk deep into the night, you dance, you laugh, and you go your separate ways. Then fate decides that’s not the case, so you keep bumping into each other. You rinse and repeat that same night in all its bountiful chemistry and then finally, when it’s too late for nightclubs but too early for the sunrise, you’re caught in the nights fresh rain and run from the well lit streets into the darkness of a covered alleyway.

As you catch your breath and things go quiet… Your mind runs blank.
The rain and silence amplify the tension. You’ve discussed it, the palpable chemistry, the playful and natural vibe.. You both know you can’t, for it’ll lead to nothing but trouble.
You reason, it wouldn’t hurt now, would it? A single kiss for a single night? But you’re not single, and neither is he. This thought is brief, you’ve resisted too long, every damn time you’ve pulled away or blushed.  You’ve had a few drinks, and he’s had a few too, but it’s not just that.. There’s so much more, but so much less. Powerful and simple. Primal. You’re locking lips, tongues dancing to the tune of a light drizzle and the sweet taste of peppermint gum.

You break away and turn on your heel, buzzing on this new found high.

You walk in to the light, back into the rain, feeling excited beyond measure.

And then you go your separate ways.

The worst part is… I don’t even know his name. It’s all so illusive, so ill-fated. I love and live to self-sabotage, I deserve nothing more, to my own logic. But he makes me feel a little less tragic, a little less sad.

Will fate pull us back together?

Time will tell.


Unnecessary Drama.

Look, it’s quite simple really.

I loved you. I loved you for a long time. I loved every part of you. Your eyes, nose, lips, fingers, thighs, toes. Everything. I loved the inside of you, the parts that made me scream and cry, both with laughter and in anger.

There’s not a thing I didn’t love, even when I hated you.

But that time has passed.

I can’t keep putting you first, you can’t stay my number one.
Is it really love when you don’t love yourself?

I obsessed. I was dependent on you, I needed you so I could live – by you, through you. I lived for you. Everything I did, said, and thought, was to make your life easier. To keep you on track to the goals that you are so desperate to achieve. I was so concerned with you I forgot about, well, me.

I like him now, and I know it hurts. It hurts me too.

I know you could ruin this new thing, even I could. Hell, maybe I already have. I’m afraid, I hope not. I can’t be alone. I just don’t want you to cause unnecessary drama, because I know you’re good at that. You’re capable of that.

Please don’t hurt me.

I’m Sick of Constant Reinvention.

Why is it that we can’t just be the same people, acting the same way, in the same circles forever?

I’m so sick and tired of having to change and perform for different crowds in different scenarios as a means of fitting in. It’s a conscious effort, and I know that sounds weak.

I mean, why can’t you just be yourself?

I have the answer for you – because I don’t make sense in this world.

There are those of us, that exist in the plane,  that absolutely do not fit in. No matter what we say or do, we’re always attempting to find a place in this world where we belong.

I can “belong”, depending on what that term means. I can be within a group of people and seem like I should be there. It’s a skill to be a chameleon like this. I’m not sure if those of us, I know there has to be more than just me, should be proud or saddened by this skill.

But these people, they either eventually leave me or I have to leave them. Everyone I come across is so damn disenchanting, so boring, so full of themselves and their own little issues that it has become ad nauseum.

And if they aren’t, and have a glimmer of interest, I eventually act the way I am – I show my true colours. That is someone no one really wants to be around.

Those who meet me say I’m “relaxed and aloof” – and they’re not wrong. I’m mostly expressionless and don’t want you to touch me. It’s better for me to be this way than to be who I could be. You can fit in anywhere if you’re  the blank slate in the group, because no one quite knows you yet. Be friendly, polite, act interested when necessary, keep your distance – it’s really not that difficult.

It’s funny, my friends often ask “how are you so self-assured and calm?”

If only you knew. Truly, if only you actually fucking asked and didn’t back off when I showed you how I really am.

If only I could be myself, my true self, and even show you a sliver of how difficult it is. How neurotic, obsessive, passionate and intense I am. I’m plagued with these thoughts of love and loss and why I’m even here.

I hate attention-seeking, so who I am to speak up? That’s why I’m writing here, I’m tired of being alone.

Being one in a million, that’s how sure I am, I can’t be alone.


PS. 2 weeks without a cigarette tomorrow, that counts for something – right?


Comfort Zones and Repetition.

This always happens when I’m pushed to the edge.

I find myself repeating myself, just to find myself repeating myself, in which I find myself repeating myself.

I latch onto sayings as things go topsy turvy, and use them continually.

Right now, “I’m all about that life”, or adversely, “I ain’t/am not all about that life”. Over and over I’ll say it. In every single conversation it’ll come up, because I can’t stop. I’m so uncomfortable that I’m regressing back into this repetitive speech.

What does it mean? It’s a way of disagreeing or agreeing strongly, and making a response more casual and funny (to a degree). People like it, people laugh. And now, people repeat it back to me. I don’t like hearing my terms used back to me, they sound so empty and inauthentic. These responses aren’t truly responses – they have no justification or reason. They’re just words to fill the ether and validate my conversational partners statements. I don’t tell them why or how or anything of actual value.

To be so truly disenchanted is awful.
I say that word all the time too, “disenchanted”. These things I can’t stop. My life is so new and uncomfortable, I need these constants.

Nothing is constant anymore. All these “positive” changes are killing me.

I need help.

I Hate Feeling So Weak.


Fuckity fuckity fuck.

I’m completely terrified, because I don’t know what’s coming next.
Because I don’t know if I’m loved or wanted.
Because my brain keeps reminding me I am the worst, and no one really cares.
Why do I need that constant reminder?

And why do I feel so guilty about putting my thoughts on paper? Putting them out into the ether? I just don’t know. I have so many questions, so few answers. Everything has become so much more complicated since I left my partner.

I don’t deserve happiness, I don’t think I ever did.

I don’t know how to be happy. Why can’t I just be at peace with everything?

I gave up on the man I love because I didn’t feel loved or fulfilled – yes. I cry less, which was all the point. But I also laugh less, and coo less, and feel like myself less and less and…
I feel so much loss. So much pain. Will anyone love me like he did? I hope not. But will someone tolerate me and entice those feelings once more?

All I ever wanted for him was the best. The best of everything, and I gave him everything I could offer. I felt so useless, I never once felt good enough. Now when I see him online, I feel a sharp pain in my chest and a prickle in my eyes. Why wasn’t I enough? Why aren’t I ever enough? Why couldn’t he just love me like I needed to be loved? Am I really that bad?

I’m seeing someone new already, I can’t spend any time alone. If I’m alone, this happens. Alas, they cancelled on me for their brother – which is totally fair enough. I just need to accept that. Of course his brother is more important, heck, he hasn’t seen his brother in months. Not only that, he rescheduled for Friday – which is in this very same week! Shouldn’t that be enough?

No shit it should be. But no. It’s not. I need more attention, I need someone to hold me for hours and hours and never want to let go. I’m not going to cause a scene or act any different, because logically I know it’s okay. But these emotions, they don’t quieten. It makes me want to flip out and punch the shit out of something, or someone.

How pathetic. I can’t even handle a single night alone.

I also have a job offer, which I’m too afraid to take. I’m too afraid and shit scared of everything, I’m pathetic.

The sun hasn’t even set yet, and I have 15 more hours until I’m back among civilization.

Fuck it. I’m getting drunk.