I know that it's your soul, but could you bottle it up?

Well, there is just nothing like a good old holidays anxiety attack to remind you of how heartbroken you were pretending not to be and trying to forget that you were.

Fuck.

I am giving up on greener grasses. I'm giving up.

Somewhere between men using me to get off, men disappearing, men trying to convince me to leave town to live with them, men swearing up and down that they care about me, men chewing me out for seeing other men, men ignoring me, men smothering me, men hurting me, men telling me I'm better than their girlfriends, men standing me up, men walking away before ever having met me, and then some,

I've had really, enough.

You have no right to get mad at me. I have a right to be hurt, and I have a right to be furious. I belong to no one, and that was your choice. If you wanted me, if you really wanted me, you'd prove it.

I wish I could find just the right couple of words out of everything going on in my head to say to you. Bottom line is, I care about you, and I'm willing to give to you, only if it's requited. But if you can't man the hell up, tell me you want me, and make me feel it, then you've lost.

I can't breathe. So many paths to choose from, and all I want to do is throw some punches and give in, alone.

& Your words float like dandelions, every other way. I can't keep listening to what you say.

The rare and really special thing about me, is that no matter how many times I fall with nothing there to break it, I limp around with my chin up.

I still believe in romance. I still believe in people with good hearts. I still believe in fate and love and karma and magic.

I'll keep my guard up. My heart isn't going anywhere near my sleeve this time.

But maybe, just maybe...

He's not talking, he's just walking, like them city boys from New York.

Briefly, for a very fast moment, I get a glimpse of who I was before you fell into my life. Not happy, not heartbroken, just content.

That's why I do it. And we're both too stubborn to try to understand each other.

All I know is I want nothing, not a damn thing in the world, than to feel the way you made me feel again. As pathetic and sad as it is, as much as I know now that you are not to be trusted, as unsure as I am about whether or not you would care at all if I were to suddenly cease to exist tomorrow, I want you again, Soldier.

But I'd rather live the way I'm living now than wait around to see if you'll take it all back and feel that kind of hurt when you won't.

Hello darkness, my old friend. I've come to talk with you again.

I don't care if it means I'm doomed to wind up alone for my entire life.

I refuse to settle for anything less than what I want to fall in love with. I won't dare settle for anything less than how I felt a couple of weeks ago.

And if I never see that again, well, I guess I have no reason to exist, then, do I?

It'd just be so much easier if I had all the right words. If he could turn around.

This is all so ridiculous. I shouldn't have gotten so smitten with a fallacy.

You're the nicest thing I've ever seen & I wish we could see if we could be something.

I don't wanna think about you if you're not in my life.

Not when I'm dreaming, not when I'm awake,

and not when I'm under a completely gorgeous stranger.

Pain, pain, and more pain. This is so twisted and pathetic and fucked up.

On the floor at the great divide with my shirt tucked in & my shoes untied, I am crying in the bathroom.

I had a horrible dream about him last night.

He was here, and he was perfect.

It's hard enough to avoid him online, when he's always cold to me, if he's raiding my dreams now, being exactly what I want, I'm fucked. Nowhere is safe.

Please, please, please be different in 30 days.

It's not so hopeless when someone's hoping you never leave.

Days are rough and painful when they always seem to end with the question,

"Why go on?"

But I do. It's like someone's dragging my bare back against asphalt.

I'm tired of privates driving, need a general that ain't weak.

A list of things I'm thankful for:

Beer.

Stomach ulcer weight loss.

More beer.

Slightly attractive jobless loser guys who will probably never talk to me again after I give into them constantly coming at me and making me feel pretty.

More beer.

I'm not gonna go on the "I wish..." rant anymore. I'll just say, I'd be lying if I said I didn't still feel a significant amount of pain in my chest whenever I inevitably think about this guy I'd never even met, and how he's telling someone a lot prettier than me all the stuff that used to make me melt. I'd be lying if I said I thought I was better off and I didn't miss him.

It was the classic young soldier overseas/lonely student girl love story. Who wouldn't have been sucked into it?

It's been a hard day, a harder night. The rock star's girlfriend, she lost the fight.

I think I'm broken. I need a rescue.

I try to get better. I get to a point where I know, I just know, I'll be okay. I even feel normal again.

Then I get this feeling like I've been kicked in the stomach with a steel toed boot. And I don't know how much longer I can carry on in a world where I get a new kick every day.

I just want to go to a room with a bed, not this one, because there are blank spaces where his pictures were, and every time I roll over and see it, it's like 20 boots to the stomach, but a room with a bed and lay down, and sleep, and never get up. Because I know what kind of people are beyond the door to that room. No matter how hard I try to see the good in everything, no matter how good I try to be, I am disappointed.

I'm not this worked up about him. I'm this worked up about the bigger picture.

All of a sudden all these men who are the kind of men I despise just from looking at them show up to bug me and feed off of me. I'm too tired to tell them to back off. If they could just leave me alone, and if he could just disappear, I'd get over this just fine. But that's not the case, and I wish at least five million times a day that he would just hit a rewind button and make things the way they were. Easy as that.

...Never gonna happen.