let go

Gah! It just SO FRUSTRATING! ...it’s just…i can’t even look at her, only to say hi. And then i beat myself up because i messed up…now it’s that HARD to just say HI.

I told her that i was sorry for not being mature enough to handle what was going on in our relationship at the time. I’m frustrated because told her that she was beautiful. Twice.

I ‘m frustrated because i thought that it was over for me. It’s been too long. I’m ashamed to say that it’s still painful.

I’m frustrated because i cherish the seconds where i experience her smile now…but if i wouldn’t have messed up…i could’ve been receiving more than a smile now…

I’m such a fool.

I was reading back over my entries…they were pretty sad. Looking back, i do not regret saying and typing those things. I was not being melodramatic.

It hurts…but I’ll get over it.

:P

A voice said, Look me in the stars
And tell me truly, men of earth,
If all the soul-and-body scars
Were not too much to pay for birth.
– A Question Robert Frost

I’ve often wondered why people experience things…for what purpose.

My mom’s best friend went into the hospital for a routine hysterectomy, but when she came home to rest and heal, she couldn’t use the bathroom. They admitted her back into the hospital…and guess what happened. The doctors tied her intestines and tangled them…and clipped them.

She’s been in the hospital for almost 2 weeks now. My brother and I went to see her. I was angry…as usual because this shouldn’t have happened. She’s gone through other things in her life: like cancer and being sick. She’s not a bad person…

My session was today.

One of the best.sessions.ever

seriously.

We debated..the first hour. And then, we talked. And reasoned…reasonably!

She said that i need to stop…repressing things. Which is nice…i suppose. I mean, i didn’t think i was repressing. But saying throughout the day, “No. Stop thinking about her. You’re not hurting, idiot! Get on with life! GO AWAY!” and forcing myself to think about (among other things) bookshelves and bricks (...you don’t want her…look! Isn’t that brick so detailed!) is not going to help. It’ll just eat away at me.

She said, “You’ve got to FACE IT…these things…They’re not going to go away.”

meh…

Painting isn’t working anymore. I’ve avoided any and all romantic things: Music, Movies, internal fantasies and daydreams, television, and biblical verses that contain love. No Songs of Solomon and Corinthians’s devotions. Only verses that deal with sexual immorality, homosexuality, gluttony, and sin so that i could learn ‘em and beat myself constantly to SHUT UP and realize my stupidity.

At night it’s hard because my brain will not stop, so…hence the painting.

Yesterday at church, the Sunday school teacher was fed up with me asking fifty million questions about the bible. Because i know the bible pretty well and i was just being a pain and because the questions i was asking had no easy answers, she told me that i was nitpicking. I burst in tears! I’m 21 YEARS OLD. My goodness.

Went home and cried. And clutched my pillow and sobbed that i missed her. (where…did that come from…) Then i told my self to shut up because what happened wasn’t a big deal IDIOT.

Get over it.

Now, I’m painting some more…

Keep your mind off of her. Don’t think about her.

It’s pathetic and lousy. But I’m constantly training myself to think immediately about something else. I suppose i need to give an example so that this doesn’t look gay.

Or psycho.

A friend and I went to eat at The Olive Garden. (I always get the soup and salad because it’s the cheapest thing to order. I’m an quote “Struggling Artist”) They gave us a mint after we ate. I opened it, and on the inside there were mountains.
“She seems like she would like the mountains. She’s so earthy, you know?” I whispered.
My friend stared at me, and raised her eye brows, “Who?”

Pause

“Dr. L.” I mumbled, then the ache came back. She just watched me bury my head into my hands.
“You have got to stop doing that.” She frowned.
“I know. I’m trying. Every time a thought comes, i try and replace it with something else.”
She smiled slightly, “Things remind you of her?”
“Yeah.” I throw the bread stick on the table, “And it’s horrible. I’m so scared that i will run into her. I don’t want to see her ever again. I wonder…if she’s happy. I hope someone loves her…”
This obviously isn’t working. What else can i do. Frankly, I’m sick of this.

No matter how badly your heart is broken, the world does not stop for your grief.- Anonymous

No more alcohol for you. And also, no more thinking. Next time, just shut up…okay? I don’t care if you’re hurting…idiot a LOT of people in this world have A LOT more troubles than you. So, just shut up. Get a life. Finish painting. So sew some stuff. And NEVER EVER fall for ANYONE ever again. Idiot. EVER. Bastard.

Dooes it ever go away…
Does it?

I’m drunk.

I heard her voice…during therapy. NO. I wasn’t hallucinating.
As soon as i heard her, my attitude shifted. Ms. H smiled and said, “I know you can hear her voice.”
yep.

I heard her/ she sounded okay.
idiot.
cough i have a bad cold/cough
I wish…i could know. F-k.
Sorry.
I misss…her smile. The way she would touch things… swallows another glassyes…i seriously did
I don’t want to see her EVER AGIN…but then again…i do…
that above my stomach feeling is back. it’s hurting dmaiit. dammit. She said she cares…IF SHE FUCKING CARED SHE WOULD:VE TOLD ME WHAT TI DO WHENI T HURTS >

no! i’m n ot going to sit around here acting like some IDIOT when this iisn’t serious.FFF-K.

If it isn’t so serious…WHY DOES IT HURT. GAH! YOU IDIOT! IDIOTIDIOTIDIOT!!!!!!!!!1

I actually did it. I erased itr. I deleted the emails. I erased the email address. I removed any trace of anything to remind me of the person off of my computer.

Now i need to erase my…uh…heart. That sounds so f-ing PATHETIC. Gosh, i still feel like an idiot. uh…that’s becasue i am an idiot.