daydream disbeliever

I Long For His Torrid Kisses

Which will be the death of me first? My naivete or my
blatant stupidity? I tried my damnedest not to get my
hopes up, but they rose in spite of me.

He didn't so much as even call me. Instead, he went
to his brother-in-law's impromptu party. After calling me
in the middle of the night on Wednesday and begging my
forgiveness for neglecting to call Monday, then promising
the moon and stars and a visit Saturday. He even told me
not to make any plans; that Saturday evening would only
belong to us. I tried, I really tried, to be nonchalant
and take it with a grain of salt, but Thursday and Friday
were filled with a simmering sense of the sweetest
anticipation, like it was a 48-hour Christmas Eve. I
should have known that I was setting myself up for loss and
hurting, but when it's him...Josh, I just can't stop when
it comes to you.

I ended up getting drunk last night and crying myself
to sleep. And Father David's homily this morning didn't
help matters, either. I left with a feeling of shame of my
nice things. I don't like feeling that way, but somehow I
leave with a sense of shame or ugliness each Sunday, even
more so than I normally experience day to day.

I don't know what I'm going to do about Joshua. N,
N2, L, and MD tell me to kick him to the curb; that he's a
jackass that just wants to "keep me always there". It's
humiliating, I know, but I love him so much I simply don't
care. He's the first thing I think about in the morning
and the last thing I mull over before sleep claims me at
night. I can't do what my friends tell me to do because
finding someone else is impossible.

K.