I need to take off your photos, I need to erase your memories. I don't know why I still can't do it, he's right there on my wall. I.. love him? Fuck this shit. I hate men, I don't care if it's considered splitting or not, but I'm so tired of feeling drained after a failed relationship, I've been in bed all day just contemplating death, going to class and being social and bubbly is draining the life out of me, I just want to disappear in this bed. I thought that maybe taking down his photos will hurry up the process, but I still didn't do it, a bit more time till I'm ready to erase him from my life. I am so mad at myself for feeling sad, I should only hate him and feel angry to make it easier, rather than feel empty and worthless over what happened. why couldn't it work it? I can't tell if i'm in a grieving process or obsessing about that night? It's not like it wasn't a big deal. It was. I keep remembering it when I go to bed, maybe it's Stockholm syndrome because I keep repeating what happened without being able to remember the good stuff about us, that I don't even know if what happened was a good memory or a bad memory. obviously from an objective perspective it was something horrible, but I'm so distorted at the moment that I don't know what I'm thinking of anymore. i haven't cum in about.. 3 weeks, at least? and the only time I tried I remembered him grabbing my head. maybe that's why I'm trying to replace that memory with Mo. I just need to take out my brain and scrub it down till I have no memory left. Reality is shit, I need my own fantasy.
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I should probably try and stop listening to music. I've been listening to Miguel - Simple things. It aches my heart whenever it's played. I really just wanted simplicity and the comfort of a companion. I was never specific about looks, social status, wealth. I just wanted to laugh and be able to stare into someone's eyes. I may be thinking in a shallow way these days to try and get my mind off of it, and I know I've been writing all day, all night. if not here, any notebook I can get my hands on. Even when I'm distracting myself by being social, I went to two of my friend's places and all I can think of is that there's so many things I want to say but I don't want to tell them, so I just run to my laptop and start spamming myself. I'm sure I'll be "fine" 10 years from now, probably fucked up on a whole new level, I might turn out psychotic with the escalation of my life events, or I'm just going to end up a heartless Bitch who "has no time to date". And they'll all just be fine, with their trophy wives. Who really wants a personality at the end of the day? isn't that what gets me in trouble anyway? I mean, what a joke that the feminist guy I dated, ended up trying to force me into having oral sex with him, some fucking joke my life is. I need a joint for this shit.
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