Void of Space

I feel sick.

Not ill-sick, like I have the cold or I feel like I'm going to vomit.

Lonely-sick... empty-sick. I had a hard time sleeping last night.

It makes me uncomfortable when people talk about sex with other people. It makes me angry, and upset, and uncomfortable. And sick. I can't help it. After this past year.... I wouldn't be suprised if I eventually became celibate.

Wow, that's sad..

I don't even know if Rachael really is going to come here over the summer. Would it be just because of Pride? Chicago has their own Pride, too. I guess I feel... false-hope? Hopelessness. Useless. Rejected. Unworthy.

This really isn't helping my depression.

And if she did come... what would happen when she leaves? I'd drop into a state of depression so bad, I'd probably stop eating. Again. But I don't have anything I'd use to cut myself, since I prefer serrated things that would hook into the skin and tear it...

God, I don't know what's going on anymore... I don't know what's going on inside, either. My head feels like it's going to explode.

Is all of this my fault? My pain, her pain, all the confusion... is that all my fault?

I still feel like I never should have told her how I felt. None of this would have happened. Does she feel ashamed? Does she regret anything? If I could turn back time, I'd try to keep all of this from happening. Maybe then she wouldn't be so confused and hurt.

I may be a bit more fucked up than usual, but I'm not thinking about "me" right now.

Then again... I really don't know what I'm thinking about anymore.