PROZAC

Love, loathe, repeat.
2009-08-12 08:17:57 (UTC)

Returning empty handed.

It's like 9 am almost, well it will be when I'm done writing I think. I was out at SF's place drinking and smoking with EI and D yesterday/this morning and I didn't leave his till gone 12. I haven't been that stoned for quite some time, I still am. Before I left we talked a bit and I'd like to say that it did us good? I'm not really seeing the good in it just yet though, I guess it's a working project? At least I know the reason why you haven't been replying to my texts, or even talking to me lately, apparently I bring out a sadness and depressive state in you.


If only my job were to repel people and make them feel like shit, it's just about the one thing I'm good at, making other people feel like shit.


We talked a bit when I got home, by now it was 4 am though. I hate these awkward silences. I never really minded them before, because they weren't awkward, it would just be me looking into your beautiful eyes and seeing love looking back at me. Would things be different if I was still there with you? I guess we'll never know. I'd hate to think that you're putting us through this just because of the distance.


I thought about us tonight, I long to feel your warm body on top of mine again, I need to feel your nails digging into me, I'm here for you to use, broken and bruised.


Do you ever feel like there's no point in anything? I'm beginning to just, well, I say beginning but I guess I've felt this way for most of my life. I lost pretty much most of my friends at a crucial time in my life when you're meant to have people around you, when you're meant to be out socialising, so I guess because I didn't have that, I turned to gaming.


Gaming for me was my life up until about 8 months ago when we started talking again. As sad and depressing as it is to think about, I'd wake up and straight away game. I'd game all day until it was light again outside and then another 10 hours before I literally couldn't keep myself awake. It was my escapism. Or at least, this is how I used to feel. Now I couldn't imagine a more perfect way to spend a Friday night than laying in each others arms, blanket around us, I miss you. It was like, we came back in each others lives and I just, I didn't want to game, all I ever did was talk to you, I just loved being in your company, talking about anything. I fucking miss you.


I loved the feeling of having someone who knew me better than I knew myself, I still love you, I swear I always will.


Since everything is now completely shit between us, I'm not really sure what I'm meant to do. I started smoking green again, which we both know isn't doing me any good. I started cutting again, both of these things you don't even know about, the amount of shit across my arm, yet you don't even know. I guess you've seen them already, you've probably smelt these untold truths on me. I guess if I depress you that much, it's probably best not to comment? Not to start another argument or hurt even more feelings.


Can I even complicate your breathing?




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