I keep looking outside for a guarantee
Sunday night I wanted to die. I will endeavour not to discuss in detail what happened any further. Monday I went into college and one of the first people I saw was he. I think he sensed there was something wrong and perhaps even a little bit of guilt if I were lucky and he felt I deserved that but nothing else. I didn’t speak to him and I didn’t break when I spoke to Hayman and Steve. Seeing Laura and Kingsley’s concern almost made me cry. I love everyone around me for caring. But I guess you guys knew that. I ran to Rach and Sally who sat with me and multi-tasked while I sobbed <3 <3. Then Rach, Hayman and I walked to Queens for the annual Christmas work do, which was smiles inducing. Have I ever told anyone how much I heart playing with drunken Hayman and drunken Rach? Michelle and Paul kept on making eyes across the table...ick. I didn’t get into Oxford. Rach got a car! Yesterday I bonded with Em again [ my baby bought me a rose to cheer me up! I loooooveee you] and we saw our respective bastardly ‘other-halves’ in town. Ha. Maybe it was fate. I sniffed lots of perfume (yes, even Sam’s Tommy) and I have added Deepest Night by Ghost to my Christmas wish list.
Tell me this. Am I cursed? I keep on picking myself up to find that by some harsh, unnecessarily brutal coincidence I am thrown back again to where I started, and I can’t get out of this hole no matter how hard I try to grapple at the sides but it’s too dark and I’m slipping away again. Ack. I’m seriously cracking up. He knows he is the sole being who can take away my pain but yet he knows not how much he’s hurt me and in all honesty I don’t think he gives a fuck. He called himself my best friend but he could find it so easily to tear me apart when I was at my most vulnerable. I trusted him again. I even thought we had a mutual respect. I don’t think it was meant to be, I told him. I feel so violated, and exposed and repulsed at how quickly I let him back into my heart when all the things I held onto that fooled me into thinking this was the real thing -not some infatuation or another bout of mundane unrequited love- were never more than meaningless. My mind is like a sequence of jarring chords; only he can break them. I’m useless; I can’t think straight anymore and I’m so close to desperation, my throat’s dry and bitter from all the tears. A fool’s voice dominates me, and I lie awake every single night and spend all my waking seconds over-analysing why he returned it so passionately, telling me how his thoughts were so wrought with confusion and hurt because all he could do was to kick himself when he didn’t give me a chance the first time...to just dismiss all those things and push me so far away that we’re not even speaking. When are you going to realise that I am the only girl who can feel this strongly and sincerely for you when you need me the most, Sam? I scare myself these days. I scare my parents. I’m scared at how I can admit I’ve been close to falling forever. That’s the only euphemism I can find to describe it.
Hug me. Or call me.
Tell me this. Am I cursed? I keep on picking myself up to find that by some harsh, unnecessarily brutal coincidence I am thrown back again to where I started, and I can’t get out of this hole no matter how hard I try to grapple at the sides but it’s too dark and I’m slipping away again. Ack. I’m seriously cracking up. He knows he is the sole being who can take away my pain but yet he knows not how much he’s hurt me and in all honesty I don’t think he gives a fuck. He called himself my best friend but he could find it so easily to tear me apart when I was at my most vulnerable. I trusted him again. I even thought we had a mutual respect. I don’t think it was meant to be, I told him. I feel so violated, and exposed and repulsed at how quickly I let him back into my heart when all the things I held onto that fooled me into thinking this was the real thing -not some infatuation or another bout of mundane unrequited love- were never more than meaningless. My mind is like a sequence of jarring chords; only he can break them. I’m useless; I can’t think straight anymore and I’m so close to desperation, my throat’s dry and bitter from all the tears. A fool’s voice dominates me, and I lie awake every single night and spend all my waking seconds over-analysing why he returned it so passionately, telling me how his thoughts were so wrought with confusion and hurt because all he could do was to kick himself when he didn’t give me a chance the first time...to just dismiss all those things and push me so far away that we’re not even speaking. When are you going to realise that I am the only girl who can feel this strongly and sincerely for you when you need me the most, Sam? I scare myself these days. I scare my parents. I’m scared at how I can admit I’ve been close to falling forever. That’s the only euphemism I can find to describe it.
Hug me. Or call me.