written on 06 Oct
at 1922 hrs

"Just think of this and me as just a few of the many things to lie around, to clutter up your shelves." -Taking Back Sunday

I'm worried.
I'm tired.
I'm annoyed.
I'm angry.
I'm lacking.
I'm sorry.

I can't communicate.
I can't feel.
I can't stop feeling.
I can't cry.
I can't appreciate.

My sister is home. I imagine we've said 50 words to each other. Half of which were after she dumped my drawer on the floor and sent everything in it flying. Half of those consisted of cuss words. "Pick the fucking thing up!" "I am! Jesus." "STOP THROWING MY SHIT."

Ben went home. I called him last night because I ended up feeling bad. I asked Kalli if something was wrong because I didn't mind not talking to him for a weekend. "Yeah." I guess. I guess when you're in a relationship you should want to talk to your partner.

Me? I just want to be left the fuck alone. If I could lock myself in my room, leaving only to make food and go to the bathroom [certainly when no one would know I was out,] I totally would. I just don't have the energy to find words. I don't know how to summon attention. Or affection.

Earlier I broke down. Sobbing and praying. And before I could feel any better some part of me yelled at the crying. "Quit being a fucking baby. Change your life or deal with what you give yourself." So I did. I wiped my eyes and pretended nothing happened.

Because fuck it all if it won't go away.