I said it wasn't a problem and tried to fix the blanket in a certain way so that the wet part didn't show. It worked and we were laughing about it, like "bwhahaha they'll never know". After that I layed my head in his lap and he was playing with my hair, and someone walked in. Immediately Cody said to me, "If you're not my girlfriend anymore you'd think you wouldn't do that", or something to that effect. I got sooooo mad that he'd say that just because of one his friends saw us, so I sat up and pouted. After the person left he picked up my hand and was playing with it like he used to, drawing circles on my palms and stuff. I asked him what was going on with us...and then I think I woke up then.

What's with this storyline that has characterized almost every single one of my Cody dreams as of late? Cody and I are somewhere. I'm sad. We start talking, something romantic/sexual happens, I ask him what's going on, and then either I wake up, or he doesn't give me an answer and I'm left alone, confused and sad.

Something is telling me that I feel as if everything with him is still unfinished. But how, God, do I come to the place where I finally feel as if the story has ended? I need to find a way to close that chapter of my life for good, but I don't know how. It's as if there's always one more page. There's that one sentence at the end that goes, "And then..."

Here's a fun analogy (metaphor? Fuck). It's like the Neverending Story. A book of blank pages that just never end, so long as you keep thinking of ways to keep the story going, it just writes and writes and writes. So maybe this is all my own fault because I keep thinking up grandiose ways of keeping the story alive. For example, sending him that email in August and then waiting around for the next month to see if he emails me back, which of course he doesn't.

I need someone to take a permanent black marker and write, "And Krista never thought of Cody ever again. The End." Or, "And Cody came crawling back to her, realizing that he'd been madly in love with her all along. He promised he was a changed man, wouldn't treat her like shit but rather would treat her like the princess that she is, and they lived happily ever after by the ocean in a nice house with three beautiful children. The End".

I don't think I ever expected him to write me back. I don't know if I'm hurt by it or not. I don't know where I stand with him anymore.

I did miss him the other day, driving home from school. It was the evening and dusk was settling in. They say that dusk is the most dangerous time of day, because it's that brink between light and dark, the brink between the good and evil, the known and the unknown. I was sick of the CDs I had in the car. Something came over me and to keep myself occupied I decided to talk to myself and relive exactly how Cody and I met, what it was like before we were a couple, and how it was in the beginning of our coupledom. The beginning is always the best, there's the excitement, the lust, the fluttering of your heart, the realization you're falling in love for real. Your mind spins and you feel as if you're floating on air permanently. It's sheer happiness. I thought of the way I felt about him, and the way I know he felt about me, and I started to cry. Big, slow tears for the entire ride home. Missing Cody, wanting him to be with me. Realizing how incredibly empty I felt at that exact moment, coming home from yet another new school, in my new car that holds no association with him whatsoever, listening to music I never used to listen to back then. It was me, but it wasn't who I used to be. I had this striking feeling in my gut that everything was wrong, that this wasn't where I'd ever imagined myself being. Not in a million years could I have guessed that I wouldn't be with Cody right then.

I wanted him to be next to me in the car, running his hand up my thighs like he used to. I just felt so...alone. It was odd that the whole car thing was what bugged me a lot, or maybe it isn't so odd. I still haven't fallen into a complete comfort zone with my car, probably because it's too new. My old car I felt I could trash, because it was so mine. Always messy. I had a big pink sparkly sticker on the glove compartment saying "Princess" that everyone who ever got into my car would comment on. Cd's everywhere, food everywhere, papers everywhere. Piles of parking stubs on the dashboard, loose change in the ashtray. I really loved that car.

It was actually an odd sensation that evening, to really feel quite literally struck with the realization that this was me, two years after the breakup. Different everything, but inside maybe not so different. Sometimes I think that it's not that I lost any of my love for him, I just had to finally accept it all in order to regain my sanity. I had to move on in order to survive.

All I wanted was for him to be there. I wanted to just feel his hand on my thigh. He wouldn't have had to say a word, I just wanted him next to me, so that I'd feel some sort of comfort amidst all of the newness. For a few minutes, I didn't want to be who I was, and I didn't want to be where I was. I felt tricked, as if someone had talked me into this new sort of lifestyle, where I live a happy life without him. How could I have fallen for something like that?

I got home and I was pouty. I snapped at my Dad for something, and later on came down to make tea. Mom asked if I was alright, I said I was fine. She said I didn't seem to be in a good mood, I said I was just tired. Then I went upstairs and I cried.

I just wanted him to be there. Just laying beside me, with his arms around me. I don't even want to talk to him anymore, I think I've said all there is to say.


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