Doesn’t He Look Peaceful

I miss her so much lately. Like the sheer physical presence alone. I miss our bed, and our room.

I really fucked things up. She used to love me so. God, I could cry forever and not get to the bottom; I keep wanting all this to be a nightmare, but it’s not one. If it is, I haven’t found its edge. I wish I could take it all back, I want that so bad!, to fix things, but she has hardened her heart, and all I can do now is mourn.

In trying to save my job, I wrecked my life. I couldn’t even save my job in the end. There is nothing I haven’t managed to fuck up. Even my love for her, as it lingers on, is now inappropriate, obsolete, I guess, isn’t it?

She says I’m indulgent. But she’s wrong about that. I think the hell I’m going through – in ways she can’t even be aware of – is every bit as exquisitely awful as it appears. The worst part of all this is, besides there being no remedy, is that I wanted to be proven wrong about being an island. I wanted it to not be true.

Somebody, help me, please.

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March 2016
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Currently Reading:

Burning in Water, Drowning in Flame - Charles Bukowski

Currently Listening:

Mr. Bungle - California

Why, yes, I am cool as a cucumber in a bowl of hot sauce.

You lika de juice????

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