MAY 27, 2004 (THURSDAY)
Yes, blogging is cathartic. If you don't like it, go read something else - like the latest issue of FHM. ^_^
I wish days could go by faster. I wish I had a time machine that, with just a spin of the dial or the push of a button, I could speed up days or go back in time. I do not want to be in the present right now. I wish that I could see the wisdom of what people tell me: you will get over him, you will be the better for it, you will you will you will. Gods. I am so tired of "you will." Right now, the overriding feeling is the need to have him back in my life. And it hurts. It sucks. And I'd never wish this feeling on anyone else in the world. It's horrid and appaling and tiring. I want to be okay again. I want to be nostalgic about Dumaguete, and feel the need to start writing again. I didn't want this over my head. If only we had a little more time to sort things out, a little more time, God, why couldn't you have given us that?
Because I love him. I still do. Dammit, why this? Why now? I DON'T NEED THIS NOW, GOD! I MEAN, WHAT DID I DO WRONG, ANYWAY?! WHAT? WHAT? WHAT?
Promise. Forever wrong timing. As in.
Ginny is right. I am beautiful. (Especially after the wonderful makeover session - and now I owe her a yacht when I get to be rich and famous.) I am a good person, or at least I try to be. Most of the time. I've never killed anyone. I try to be what I can be. Wasn't that enough, God? Should I have been a saint? Should I have died for him? Should I have nailed myself on a cross and made him watch me bleed for him?
Was he the one, God?
For once, please give me an answer.
I don't want to be angry. I don't want to be bitter and hard and unforgiving. A part of me wants to be. Honestly. I want to hit something. I want to destroy. I want all of this to end already.
I wanted to write something about my wonderful experience today with Ginny and the makeover, and dinner with Mitzie. I wanted to write about the American Idol finals night, and how Fantasia sang so beautifully that I had tears in my eyes. I want to write about something more than this GODDAMN BREAKUP that never fails to loom its ugly head over my life, overshadowing everything...
I know you're reading this. I don't want to get mad at you. I don't want to hurt you. I wish I could. But I can't. But this is hell, gods, this is HELL. I'm still waiting for everything to normalize. Otherwise, I'm just going through the motions. I'm waiting for everything to smoothen out between us. I want to talk to you again. I want to tell you about my day. I want to hear about your day, and what you think about this-and-that. I want you to tell me everything's okay.
I want to be happy.
God, is that so much to ask for?