is covered over with fog and silence, besides t moving in the kitchen, cleaning, and cars passing in front of our house. j came over this morning, brought a bag of things i had left at his little apartment, i dreamt last nite about how i hated the decor there. hmm. seeing him was confusing; i felt far away and sad and a little bitter. i'm sure he could sense the last. i was doing my best, though...
what do you do when they bring over all your shit in a bag? smile? thank them? i did all that.
he's a nice boy. i'm glad we're not romantic anymore... and sad too. oh well. t says to stop digging myself a hole. that's no fun.
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he said, "can i be completely honest?" my stomach jumped, preparing. "yeah." i responded. "of course." "i...
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i don't want to love him anymore. fuck. i want to be done. i want to be free of this. i don't want to care that he's with someon...
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of talking to people about my struggles. i just want to make decisions and figure shit out. i don't want to talk about drama anymore. at...
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