mental fragments – #2

…and I was very confused about my feelings and sort of desperate. also a little hungry, but that doesn’t count. I was feeling lonely. very lonely. this tidal feeling of yearning, the thing that I cannot define that comes and goes was here again. maybe it had been brought up to the surface by a movie or a song, or whatever, but it was here again. and again. it penetrated my dreams very constantly too, preventing me from sleeping. I had to learn to finally let it go, to grow out of that mood, but I JUST COULDN’T. I was in the point where drinking didn’t help anymore, amplifying emotions instead of drowning them. I had no escape route. and then I realized that I didn’t know if I couldn’t let go of it because it was really hard or because I was actually sabotaging myself. In reality, I didn’t know if I really didn’t want to let it go. I just knew that I had too, and couldn’t. I was an old dog and his bone, never able to figure it out. so I asked the television for advice: it had none to give. series always had happy endings, but mine was a huge doubt. my writing, at least, was able to become raw again and that was good: the sense of self-satisfaction helped a little, and the ego boost never hurt no one. but I was angry, at the same time. so very angry. why didn’t he ever call? “oh, I thought we could be friends.” yeah, we could be friends if you weren’t an asshole. you were wrong. just like that. you thought we could be friends, and you were wrong. I thought you were the love of my life, and just as wrong was I…

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