It's been over five years since I first met him. Those days are old and fading, and somehow this internal conflict has too much of a balance between the pros and cons. I don't know why I've held on so long, and have somehow forced this belief that it's true love. The one and only. The suffering had to of meant to prove to a lasting and infinite connection. True love. And as much as everyone believes that we will end up together, they don't know what events are unfolding.





It's hard to grasp the concept that everything I did and chose to sacrifice...and did no matter the consequence that it meant meaningless. I can't believe that I was used. I can't believe that he would take advantage of me and I won't. I don't understand how someone who will accept me to the end, and care so much, and still remain, loving me, won't be with me forever. And as I try and move on, and how i meet strangers that feel comfortable and familiar, I remain within his perverbial grasp. How I try and forget, and not because those days made the best days. Those days made me who I am now and I don't regret a single moment because what use does that do. And I wonder if I move how different that life will be. And yet I know somehow it will become the same whether it takes a week or a decade, wherever you go, there you are...and so she said.

I want to forget. I want to be something new. I want to be invisible and intangible. A distant and forgotten memory with no remains. It's hard enough to continue your own rules and conscience when you're not the only person you must please. The more strangers you collect, the more expectation there is. The stress is too much when people can be as indespensible as pez...and blue collared workers.

I had my first panic attack since my last roommate. These days have been so chaotic and manic. They're large commitments with huge responsiblities and as I try and control both sides of me, Tasha and Beth, somehow those lives have combined into what I've feared the most since the first day I considered becoming apart of this industry, this lifestyle. I never wanted them to be face to face. I've become a waste of intelligence and talent. I've finished before I started. I'm not me anymore. and i'm so scared.

I wonder why I came back. Everyday I wonder why I was a miracle. Why I survived. The first thought that ran through my head after I realized where I was was why I survived and how pissed I am for doing so. The joys I once was able to do I no longer can become the damage has been done. And once something good and pure and everything I've always wanted and dreamed of happens I sabotage it because honestly I don't think I deserve it and will ruin the purity of those offering it. I wonder why for everything...some things can't be romanticize or made light of. Some things are just done, and no matter how injust they seem there's no changing the inevitable. I give up. I accept it with great disappointment. Another wasted life.




I've forgotten who I am. I wish I could find myself again somehow. I miss her so much. I don't know how I became this way. I don't know who I am, but I do know that I will end up living too long, and alone. How did this happen...I once had a chance with people who saw a remarkable future. I've failed you Hemingway. I've failed you Bukowski. I've failed you all.

I'm scared that I know who I really am and after him, I'm scared to repeat it and ruin someone else. I sabotage it to save them from me. Now I know why she left without a return address. I know he loves me, but won't let me visit. And i know that I'll end up staying in Rochester. I cling onto those days when responsiblity was just an mxpx song... and when mxpx was popular. And now as I realize that these days are depleting when this behavior is not completely unacceptable, I begin to lose everything that made me who I am. He's coming home and I'm panicking.