2004-02-24 - 1:32 a.m.
I had a dream last night that someone was trying to kill me. He sprayed something into my eyes, and I hit him with a broom stick, tried to hit him so hard to make it snap.
My metaphorical self trying to kill my escaping boyfriend. Now hours later he really is lost. He does not love me like he wants to love his girlfreind. How that hurts. It hurts because I haven’t done anything to deserve it. I loved him, and I gave him all I could. And something within him ‘fell out of love’ with me. That’s what he believes. That’s how he justifies his feelings. But see I don’t believe in love. I believe in a live together with someone I trust. I …
I want to fuck someone. I want to feel their body. And I want to tell him about it. I want to throw it back in his face.
God, I hate it because part of me thinks, train for a couple of months, get beautiful and he’ll want me again. And I think I’ll play that game, because at the end of it I will be healthier, and I’ll throw myself into my work, because at the end that will be what is left. My work, and his music.
