as we both fell apart at the seams.

07/11/2009

All I want is him.

And it's sucking out all the life and goodness in me.

I can't remember the last 24 hours I got through without crying.

He asked me why I was so sad, I only half lied, mentioned the lack of direction in my life.

A while later, a facebook status of 'I want to cheer you up.' I knew it was for me, even though everyone commented on it, oblivious. A text confirmed it. 'Thanks - - ' I love you on the tip of my tongue.

I kept in, sat in my mother's garden crying until I couldn't breathe, and I can't even fully express why it hurts so much. I don't think I could ever love anyone else.

I'm still so... hateful toward men. I still couldn't bring myself to sleep with anyone else. I hate the idea of it, I hate the idea of someone's hands on me, I hate that I'd get too hot, and they'd make false promises and stupid noises, and sweat, and make my skin feel tender. It's not that it's not Richey, it's just everything... it makes me feel sick. They'd kiss me with their horrible wet mouths, stubble burn and saliva, and I'd get jaw ache and be bored, and just go through with it, numb, because I'm too polite to admit how much I hate it. I know there's something wrong with me, but I don't know what to do about it.

I just want him to come back, but I know it's not possible right now.

I feel so terribly lonely.

And I'm being a terrible diarist.

I'm sorry, Lacy.