The Raw

First and foremost: To all of you readers (all three of you), I'm really sorry about this thing becoming the Daily Diary Of A Dumpee. I'm using this as a vent hole, like I always have. Only now I'm updating more regularly, because I really have stuff I need to get off my chest...

I need to be hugged. To be hugged and told that everything will be okay, everything will turn out alright in the end. Part of me already knows that fact (refer to previous post), but when emotions take over the cold facts just drown. This insane thought keeps running in my head: what happens if there just isn't any more love left for me in this world? Does anybody care anyway?

I'm getting memory flashbacks from when I was living in Sherbrooke. That dreadful four months. I was constantly alone then. Between the sheer tension and passive agressiveness of my then flatmate and my alienation towards the University and the arts program I was then following, my life was really hollow. I was really wondering about my worth then. That autumn in Sherbrooke was following the summer when I met B for the first time. That summer I could barely breathe. I wasn't sleeping, I wasn't eating. In Sherbrooke I was still recovering from that. I remember in early September B had sent me an email, our first contact since the day I broke the communication. His email had troubled me so much I just grabbed my MD player and went walking. That night I walked for two hours.

I'm remembering that summer before I moved to Sherbrooke, all the time I spent visiting B, spending time with him, hoping he'd finally fall for me. It was always the same pattern, I'd be with him and all of life was shining brighter. I would later leave and cry out the whole water content of my body. Once, I just got on the bus back to Granby, started listening to Coldplay and cried all the way home. Bus was full but I didn't care. It had to get out. I remember sitting on a bench with B, in the park next to his apartment, just looking at the lake. We would sit there not saying anything and I could feel just how sad he was over his past love. I remember the first night we were sleeping together (I had missed my bus home because he was showing me a peculiar alleyway on the way to the bus station). That night we spent a countless amout of time just drawing figures on each other's backs.

I feel like I'm currently alienating all of my entourage being this way. Like I'm being a sappy, pathetic worm, wiggling my way through. But I'm not OK. I know that I'll end up being fine and that it won't always be like today, but at the moment, I'm not fine. Tonight, I really didn't know what to do. Listening to music didn't do any good, I didn't want to read, I tried watching television but nothing good was on. I didn't feel like wasting time on the internet. I ended up staring at the ceiling, twirling my hair. Finally I did my laundry and now here I am, typing all the random thoughts that came through my head while waiting for my clothes to dry.

Right now, I hope for better days. I want my life to come back to it's normal state, without me being all over the place and oscillating like a sinus curve.