Me #1: Where's your heart?
Me #2: You're standing on it, stupid. Look under your tiny feet. How'd it get there?
Me #1: I somehow managed to fuck something up again. So I guess it stuck itself under my clumsy feet.

We were caught the moment he walked in the door. *You* gave me a look of fear so deep that I stopped feeling for a moment and just froze. Two good days in a row aren't possible. I should have cried, but I couldn't. I felt the tears that fell so softly from *your* beautiful eyes. Nothing made sense. It was yet another time that I didn't listen to my silly, stupid little intuition, and now I'm going to pay for it. We are wrong, but not, satisfying craving that isn't inhumane. But again, maybe I'm wrong about that. So where do we go from here? Will he continue to make my heart ache? Will I always be afraid to enter my own house in fear of seeing the look of disappointment in his eyes, forcing me to crawl into a corner to puke all over myself? What's to come of this? So many unanswered questions, and yet I'm still so naive and childlike to all of this (supposidly).

We started to drive north, but didn't get far before I had to teach. Then it was off to O'Hare to attempt to see some planes. Too much traffic, just too much going on. We did get to see Enemy At the Gates...we did get to sit by the Rocks. But now I don't know where to go. Help me.






4:10 A.M.
I need *you* now and *you're* not around. I need *you* to hear my thoughts because I feel like I'm falling. My head is going to burst any minute now, so I'm done.



5:05 A.M.
It's beginning to get light outside, the sky an eery shade of blue...The stars have gone to bed, as I hope to soon. I wish I was a star.






12:25 P.M.
He was right when he said you could just walk away. You're walking away now when there is barely anything to walk away from. I'm being ostrasized in my own house, but it doesn't matter. You still don't need to deal with it first hand.

I'm thinking of moving what I need to out tonight so I can just live in my car or something. Maybe then I'll perish from lack of whatever. They're fucking castrating me here, and it hurts...a lot. And now you're seemingly ignoring me, and yes I am being sensitive. But it hurts. It's like everyone in my family has taken a gun and each fired a single shot, my heart, my mind, and my soul is wounded.