I haven’t wanted to write anything in here for days.

Terry doesn’t like it.

He doesn’t get it.

This is where I battle the demons.

the MacBook that can slay demons

they pile up if I don’t do it.

And I’m suffocating.

I’m listening to my ridiculously depressing playlist.

Deer Stop, Wandering Star, Beauty*2, Coma White, and The Persistence of Loss, and Adrift and at Peace.

I don’t know what to say to him.

Scared to death it’s over.

We talk and talk, and as much as I try to deny it, we aren’t the people we thought we were.

My grandma’s cat died today. They found it behind the lemon tree in the back yard.

Brian’s bird is slowly dying. We think it had a stroke.

I’m such a fucking pansy, but all I want to do is cry.

For Lilya, for my dreams with Terry, for my lies to myself, for my part in all of this.

I don’t feel like it’s time to cry though.

Made all this pasta…my mom sent it to me. She loves me so much. Pasta she bought me at the Italian store around the corner from her house in New Jersey. The little stuffed cow she won at the Boardwalk…

now I am crying.

God fucking damn it. Christen’s coming over.

I am such a fool.

I miss my mom…must stop crying. It’s her birthday this week and I don’t know if I’ll be able to get her a card. She does so much for me and I can’t do anything back.

All the times I had with Terry…when I looked in his eyes and knew that we would be together for a long time.

All these fucking tears.

This is such bullshit.

I’m being selfish.

I made so much pasta…made these little star pasta things that my cousin Alexis liked when she was little. Everything reminds me of the people I miss…I don’t know anyone here except Brian and Christen…I’m such a fucking malcontent loser…I just want to be happy but I don’t know how.

I just don’t want to hurt anyone any more.

I need to stop this revolving door of boyfriends…I don’t know why I thought it was a good idea…I thought it would make….I don’t fucking know.

Christen just got here.

I should go.

I’m not going to clean up my mess. Maybe I will.

Fuck.