Sometimes I make myself sad on purpose. Sometimes I try so hard to cry but I just can't. Sometimes I get urges to feel suicidal but I can't force myself to actually feel. I just shove all of those thoughts back into that deep hole in my chest and they reside there until something rips open the wound again, or I choose to rip it open myself. I can see the hole, it is boundless and midnight black, black gooey slime oozing from the outside, mixed with bright red blood from the inside of the hole...all of the sadness and anger is red and it bursts from the hole, travelling all over my body via veins and arteries and eventually every single part of it will pass through my heart, and that is where it hurts the most.

God I just want him back. So badly. It is hard to not feel worthless if you are existing for the purpose of one single event you hope will happen. So what happens if that one single thing you bank on doesn't happen? Where do you go from there? Who are you then? And what do you live for?

I dream about him every moment of the day. I can't go to bed without fantasizing about him; I really can't. It's not that I think he is perfect. I just think that he is the one guy I really want to spend my life with. I know I haven't had any other serious relationships before, but I am not interested in trying. I was completely scarred by this break-up, and really, he is the only one I would risk pain for again. I can't imagine feeling so strongly about another person. I am not willing to start all over with someone. I am not willing to just give my heart away again. I already did that once, and look where it got me. I gave my heart once and that was it. He has my heart and if I will never have his, then I just don't know what I am going to do with myself. I think I will just move away. Somewhere far. I envision myself moving to Nice, living in a cozy little apartment on a top floor, with a view of the Mediterranean. I will learn to speak French and I will live with a couple of cats and I will write depressing poetry and prose. In English. It will not be a fulfilling life but I will publish my depressing poetry and prose and when I die, I will die as the infamous heartbroken woman. I wonder how many people die with broken hearts?

I feel right now as if I want to run. Just run forever.

I don't want to be myself right now. I would give anything to be someone else, to feel someone's pain. I look at Nipa's face on my wall and she is so beautiful. Her life and mine are so different but I would take her pain over mine right now. I would rather be impoverished than feeling the constant pain of heartbreak, of loving someone who doesn't love you in return. I hate this life I lead, I hate everything about it. I am so ashamed. Of everything.

I just want him back...so badly...and I can't stop crying


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