(no subject)
I'm slipping.
I barely got through the night. I just wanted to stay up until ten when the store opens.
It was everything I could do to keep from breaking something, from going somewhere, and if I met him tonight I would have taken him up on it, seen where he would take me, what I could do.
I want to talk to you, to tell you everything there is in the world, but I'm not sure that you can hear me.
Three weeks, and here I am again. It's only tiny, but it's there, hiding in one of the shadowy corners and teasing me. It's voice has changed.
Poor little rich girl. You all say such beautiful things. I have an army of almost enough, of almost love. An army of if only and reaction. I've lost count of you all. I keep forgetting who you are. I don't want you here.
I need. My God, do I need.