Shit

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I went to my place this morning because I fell apart on Mr. Yummy. I know he hasn’t meant to hurt me,  and I’ve been hypersensitive about what all of this has done to/for him.  We have both contributed to the others misery.

I just felt like I needed air, not to be there and be uncomfortable or make him uncomfortable by my state. I packed a small bag and left.  I told him,  I need air.

Maybe I’ll stay at my sister’s,  maybe I’ll go home.  I brought Mel’s flask, now mine. Maybe I’ll drink it, maybe I won’t.

I wanted to scream, sing, and dance with you while at my place,  but unfortunately it’s a lot of other people’s place too. I just sat there and listened to Miranda on the wall, smoking and leaking. I watched the waves roll and break and suppressed the urge to scream till I’m horse, how fucking much I miss you. I felt a slight calmness for a few as I synced with the waves. Proof other things can still touch my soul and I’m not as dead as I fucking feel inside about being here without you while people remind me to be grateful for the things I have.

I’m sort of running. Hearing myself tell Mr. Yummy I never wanted to be just an old friend or current fuck buddy, leaves me feeling afraid and open. I’ve asked more than once if I need to leave, again this morning he said no,  but he also said he got more than he bargained for with the drama. I cried.  I didn’t make this drama in my life for once, yet it still found me. I told him it hurt to see him give me 6 feet of clearance, he reminded me how it hurt to give his family members the same. I cried because I know this.

I hate that I fell apart. At the moment,  my running is a much needed break for both of us.  But what if I can’t stop after this?

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About iwentcrazy

I am very, very, very average. And very, very, very lucky.

Posted on May 23, 2015, in Me. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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