Monday, September 06, 2004
I Don't Want You To Read This
That is right, I don't want you to read this, and I really really really hope that you don't, because that would just be to good to be true. I don't hate you or anything like that. But, I feel that I was pumped full of so much bullshit that I might explode from it. I can't believe after all the fun we had this weekend, that after everything, even though it was a little fast, but it was okay besides that because it was good, that you decide to break it off. How much fun for me. I wanted to cry before I got to Platteville because I was homesick, but now I can't cry because I'm scared that I'll be crying because I was hurt and I can't let that happen to me, because I just can't that isn't the way I want to work. Anyway, I still want to come home, always will. But, I want home to be my mom's house where meatloaf and tator tot casserole is served by the truckload and condiments are always present, 'specially Ketchup. Anyway, so yeah, that's never gonna happen, and that just means that I have to learn to cope with everything on my own. Sad thing I wanted you to be here so I wouldn't be soo homesick. And I am happy for you and your little move-age down here, but I think that there is more to it than everything. You didn't need to have your hand on my leg while I was trying to study, you bastard, I can't believe this. I hate it soo much, I hate how you wanted me to support you and that's all you asked, well who's your support now?? I have one guess, I don't know how right I am, but I hope that I am right, because that would mean, well I was used. God, I never learn do I, the nice thing, I didn't snap on you, I didn't make you hurt. Which was prolly a good thing, because you could have hurt me more, so now I'm hoping that you are going to read this, because no one else does. And if you're anything like me, you're going to read this, because you want to know that you did something to me. Asshole. God, I'm morbid. I have no idea why I trusted you soo much, I know I shouldn't have, but I did. Why did I? I have no idea, was it the bullshit you fed me, which I have no idea how much was/is bullshit, but I'm assumming at the time it wasn't bullshit, but as you look back now, you'll realize that it was bullshit and that none of it made sense and why you felt this way was unknown to you. God, I hate you. I don't really hate you, but I'm making myself hate you, so I can feel better in the end. I'm not going to hurt a lot, because I'll have some kind of support system down here, even if it includes making myself hurt more to make it a little better. You're the icing on the cake, I was homesick and you just topped it off. You walked out of the hall...and you were the person that had my connected to home, but now you're gone and my phone card is out of minutes. You left me stranded in this world and I'm scared as hell. I had a little light at the end of the tunnel, and now it's gone. I'm scared and I want to go home, but I burnt my brigdes to home, and I'm no where. I'm lost without anything and I'm really scared. Thank you, maybe I'll grow up a little. I should hope so. I have no idea though. I don't want to be so scared, but I am. God, fucking a I hate this. I really really hate this.
# posted by ojeilloh : 6:58 PM
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