hydrangea.
fear. anger. anxiety. distrust. sadness. these are the only things i feel anymore... i literally feel like i'm in a plexi-glass cube in the middle of my own life, wanting desperately to participate and enjoy all that i've been blessed with, but it's impossible. for every fucking good thing that happens, i twist it until it no longer resembles anything remotely positive and it sits, steadfast and ugly, at the forefront of my thoughts. C has been many things to me, but cruel or intentionally hurtful have never been any of them. and yet, as i write this, my mind is busy telling me that yes, he has indeed done horrible, mean spirited things to me... how else could he have let all of this end up HERE? every time he refuses to cuddle, every time he won't make love to me, every FUCKING time he masturbates... i can feel my heart breaking. i feel like i'm dying from the inside out... i feel sick to my stomach. why is it so impossible for me to talk myself down?? he has told me countless times that he loves me more than anything, that he thinks i'm beautiful, that i can still turn him on... that he masturbates because it provides a kind of release that sex can't. it's not that he doesn't find me attractive, or that physically i no longer satisfy him. FUCK. why, even after hearing these things a million goddamn times, can't i believe them?? i can't be losing my mind, i'm too aware of how abso-fucking-lutely INSANE i feel.