ascaechoriel is absolutely wonderful. You must all go throw down praise and adulation upon her. She gave me the style thing I needed to make the friends pics show up. She's also the one who told me how to change the font. So yeah .. now to get rid of these ugly fucking colors.
Someone decided to be fucking cute by sending chad a text message with my name on it. I don't know what it said. But I know it made him need to call me back.
And I'm sure none of you have any clue how *difficult* that was.
Whoever did it, you should be so fucking ashamed of yourself. Whoever did it, you're not funny, cute, friendly, nice, or just introducing some levity. I hope I find out who did it. So I'll know who I should start hating.
Free Will Astrology always seems to say the thing that hits me the most. Just for being the most unlikely source.
Some years ago, urban shaman Donna Henes conjured up a three-week ceremony called "Dressing Our Wounds in Warm Clothes." Equal parts performance art and healing ritual, it was staged at the Manhattan Psychiatric Center on Ward's Island, a scrap of land that also hosts a sewage disposal plant. In its ambition, the event rivaled Mother Teresa's well-publicized toilet cleaning at a leper colony. I bring Henes' noble act of creativity to your attention, Sagittarius, because you'd be smart to draw inspiration from it. The astrological omens suggest it's a perfect time to salve your worst booboos with artful ingenuity.
But I'm the one who said 'enough'... I don't get to feel pain here, right?
I feel miserable. Right now, I just want to call him back, take it back, make it all better somehow. I really do.
He's been the only friend I've had for so long and I know it's just the thought of him being erased from my life that's killing me... Knowing that I just crushed him.
I can't stop crying. I can't stop wishing this didn't happen. I can't feel it in me that this was the right thing.
I know it intellectually, but my heart is screaming out for different answers. I'm not made for this. I'm not made for relationships and sharing my life with someone. I'm not made for loving. Despite everything that happened I know he loved me. I know the poor fool loved me. And I loved him. I really did. Funny how we can slip into the past tense so easily. I still love him. He knows that. He knows that that's why this was so hard. That's why he left that door cracked open so I can reach him if I need to.
I don't want to make this any harder for him or for me than this needs to be. Because this is already so hard. The boy made me want so much. He made me want to *live*. He inspired that in me. Having to tell him that it couldn't be together was probably the most gaddamned heartbreakingly sad thing I've done in a long time.
I just wanted to make him happy. That's why I know I'm not built for relationships. I'm supposed to be trying to make US happy. My heart isn't in it to do. And it's not fair to either of us to do it half heartedly.
He's going to fall in love again. It's going to take time, but he will. He's an incredibly sweet person who deserves the right love. It's just not me.
And I know that. But his sad voice in my head is killing me right now.