ravengurl13 (themorrigan13) wrote, @ 2004-07-29 23:13:00

i'm hoping i can get everything out before i lose interest in writing in something that i choose to profane. i guess it's just a weird way of comforting myself with the thought that it wasn't me. i mean there's a lot of stuff that i've done or that's happened to me that i want to write down, but it seems difficult to write it in here, just because it means that it happens on the same plane as, well, the cutting.
i guess chronological order is best because it's easiest.
period started.
charlie left for georgia, and it hurt, but not as much as i expected. i swear that sometimes the feelings don't seem that strong. somedays i'm like charlie who?, but then the next day i'll wake up and all that's in my brain is him. like he's invaded every single cell in my body, but i feel too good to care. and i'll be at work paying attention to some no receipt return, but can't even be comprehending what they're saying, because i'm thinking about how i should be home making out with him, touching him, talking to him, loving him. then i feel dumb, because it's just that- dumb. retarded. stupid. he doesn't feel the same way, it's all a penis problem to him. and maybe that's not really what he's thinking, but he can't articulate anything else. and being told i'm good for "mr. peppy" is just not my idea of showing affection. and if saying, "i love you", doesn't come naturally, then it's just not there. and it's not there, unless i force it. i was visiting before he left for georgia, and what i needed was comfort and "i love you"s from someone who loves me. he can't do either and i think if anything makes me cry, that does. i just have no idea what to think and what to believe. and it has bullshit to do with "believe what you want to believe" because hell if i'm going to hurt myself for no reason. it's just too fucking complicated, and i'm pretty sure that if love exists, then it reeeeallly isn't this complicated. otherwise people wouldn't go for it. if anything convinces me that love is dead, it will be this faux pas of a relationship. it's going to kill me. and anytime i talk about it with him, he acts like it's some chore that he does for money. "i wish you wouldn't come over, because when you leave i feel bad." then why the hell ask me to come over? and what the fuck does feel bad mean. there are too many half truths running around his aura.
so i had my first conversation with charles. he turns around during break one day and asks, "do you know any songs with your name in them?" and i can only think of the 60s bebop hit, "rockin robin", and he laughs and says it's older than that. and i'm thinking count basie maybe had lyrics to his songs, but charles busts out with the fact that the song he's thinking of is a madrigal. and then he does a little dance when i cut him off to tell him that i know what a madrigal is. and what followed was a pseudointellectual conversation (with him being the intellectual, and me being the "hey, i took a class about that freshman year at college"). he's going to bring in the cd and let me listen to it. i'm so excited i can hardly blink. lol

ok, that's all i can handle for right now, but it can only get better. i'm trying to put this in order of coolness, so i end up feeling better by the end of it.

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