(no subject)
Being alone, it's all right sometimes. Usually, I handle it all right. I ran into Steve Jackson at Indigo Tuesday, and he had me tell him the tale of Chris' betrayal, since apparently Chris isn't proud enough of his achievement to talk of it himself. Ever since then, it's just been a little harder to deal with. I honestly do try very hard not to think about it, to just focus on MY life and what I'm doing with it now. I'll never be happy if I can't let go of things, but... everyone seems to want to remind me of what happened. Kaley told me she saw Jessi at the gym. Wow, that's nice. She'll go to the gym to look good for Chris, that traitorous, childish bitch, but she sat on her ass getting fat with me. All the times I wanted to get her to exercise with me, and all she really needed to motivate her was that filthy fuck? Why did she bother with me, seriously? If Jessi wanted someone to whom loyalty means nothing, for whom bathing is optional, someone who can't even comprehend the meaning of passion, then why the hell did she spend so much time holding me back? That statement is admittedly a bit unfair, as it's no one's fault but my own that she DID hold me back, but still, what the hell? I don't even care WHY she's at the gym. I just hate being reminded that she's still here, that she's so fucking close all the time. What makes her think she has the right to continue hurting me with her existence? She needs to go back to her fucking hole in Englewood and never show her face again. Let her live in the heat, the filth, feeling inferior to everyone she knows. It's better than she deserves, having a place to crawl back to when she needs. Does my anger actually make me a bad person? Am I not justified in it? I guess that's not the point, is it? I just want to be happy and content, and it's not going to happen as long as this shit makes me angry. It's not going to stop making me angry until it stops hurting, though. It's been over four months now, and when Kaley simply mentioned she saw Jessi, I almost threw up. I haven't cried in... I don't know. More than a month, I think. It's hard to keep track of time now. I got to the point where I remembered it happening, but not entirely what it felt like anymore. I remember again. I don't like it. What am I supposed to do here? Employment hasn't made me happy. It's just distracted me and thrown some scotch tape on my self-esteem. I get the feeling school's not going to make me feel much better, either. I'm just too damn lonely sometimes. I still remember what it felt like crawling into bed and getting up as close to her as possible. I remember the fabric of her shirt and pajama pants, how far her skin would depress when I put my arm around her. I remember the smell, the temperature, all the little noises, all the obnoxiously loud noises she made when she snored. It's fucking haunting having all these memories so clear in my mind. It feels like someone died. Maybe that's why it still hurts; my brain still hasn't worked out that she didn't love me and that she isn't just missing. This fucking life... sometimes, I wonder why I thought it was a good idea to continue.