(no subject)
Nothing makes sense. I'm incapable of sewing even the most primitive of words together into comprehensible and tangible thought for you. But for the first time, today I could look into your eyes and feel nothing; there was no yearning, no desire, even kissing you felt estranged. And all you had to say was I didn't smell like me; the scent on my hands smelled unique on each hand. Either I am two different people, I use lotion only on one hand, or I was holding the hand of someone else. He asked if I wanted to stay, I said I do not know. He suggested I leave and that I give him time; he said I am not good for him and he is not good for me. He didn't have to tell me that-- I was done with him a month ago.