breaking hearts has never looked so cool [ 22.06.04 - 4:33 finding comfort in the bottom of a bottle of whiskey. ] day 234. i stayed up way too late last night, fretting & taking a painful stroll down a barbwire-laced memory lane. i'm a glutton for punishment. i kept everything. everything. i listened to the cd of songs he wrote for me. i flipped through photos, digital, print, & photobooth. i smiled over the picture of us, shivering in the cold, he drew on his computer. i reread every letter he ever wrote me - every little note left for me when i woke up, the anniversary card he made me, the letter he wrote while he was in hungary & i didn't think i could take it. we had a cat, but we had it put down. we had a baby & it met the same fate. i can't get these memories out of my head & i want to tear out my hair. i lay in my tiny bed alone & thought about how i felt when i would lay down next to his sleeping form to wrap my arm around him & cuddle against his back while he sighed in his sleep & cupped my hand against his chest. & watching his silhouette against the moon that seemed to never leave right outside our bedroom window. rushing downstairs to watch car accidents, biking through turbulent, potentially deadly downtown streets to meet him on a bridge. i can recall how every time i went anywhere without him, i would approach my apartment building with increasing speed & how without fail, each & every single time i would slide my key in the lock, my stomach would lurch in excitement to see him again. & when he'd go, i'd be counting down the minutes until i heard his key. two hours apart was too many. now it's been 234 days. we went for walks on the shore, rode the double-decker buses, ate candlelit dinners of the only thing i know how to cook on our patio. they say that the most memorable sense is the sense of touch & in my experience, i can say that it's probably true. i can feel every single time that boy touched me, kissed me, even came near me. do i wish he'd never emailed? no. even if it doesn't matter, it's good to be thought of & missed. did i get some weird flicker of blind hope? yes. & i hate myself for it. i hate that i still love him. i used to read things that people wrote that sound strikingly similar to what i just wrote here & consider them melodramatic, but that was before i had been in love, before i had my heart really broken. but now i realize that it was child's play. this is heartbreak. this is how it feels to love someone & not have them love you back. [ previous entry - next entry ]

navigate> !new !old !really old !profile !notes !diaryland je t'adore> whinyemosara xtearitupx scientifics stoopib dre2600