"But I'm young, and I'm pretty, and that's all that you need."
- Scouting For Girls, Famous
As I write this, Love is beside me. She is so close that our legs are touching. Well, I guess I am that close to her: she is against the arm of the couch and I am the one imposing myself into her personal space. It is weird writing this while sitting beside her. I know she reads this, but for some reason I feel like I should just say all these thoughts now instead of letting her see them later. But then, as I typed that, I realised if I could talk about things face-to-face with the same ease that I can type them, I probably wouldn't have this blog.
Tonight, I hid in Love's room while Cowboy was over. He doesn't want to see me, but we (Love and I) really didn't want me to go as early as I would have had to if I left before he got here. So, I hid in her room. I don't know what I did. I was in there for about 3 hours. I know I spent a half an hour testing out the vibrator I bought this afternoon (holy tits!), but that is the only amount of time that is actually accounted for; the rest of the time is just lost now. Spark came home eventually and she came in and sat with me and we talked over MSN. We even turned our webcams on to make sure we could see each other. It was quite funny. Cowboy was - and will forever be - completely oblivious to my presence.
Apparently, while I was chilling in Love's bedroom, my ex was trying to make moves on her. On some level, we can both understand that he is quite lonely and is probably just looking for a revenge fuck. But Love is quite displeased that he was trying that on her. As for myself, I don't know. I know what it feels like to be lonely. I also know that sleeping with my best friend is probably the lowest thing he could do, and it could not be unintentional. That makes me mad. That makes me want to hurt him. And that scares me.
I remember dancing with him a few weeks ago. I remember knowing, but not admitting, that it would cause him pain to let him dance with me like that. I think I was aware all night that even talking to him could lead to nothing good. So why would I do that? Do I really want to intentionally cause him pain? I must be a terrible person if that is the case. But... I don't feel bad... The way in which I feel the worst is the way that I am aware that I should feel very bad about these emotions, and yet I don't.
When I was with Acadia, I know I tried to hurt him. But he was hurting me. Is that justification enough? An eye for an eye, right? I don't think that makes it OK. I think this is probably a very serious issue that needs to be addressed somehow. But how can I talk to anyone about this? Any time discussion borders on emotions that are deep and painful (even if they are not my own), my stomach knots into a pit of anxiety and, usually, my throat closes so that I feel as if no sound would come out should I try to push out words. The only way for me to communicate at that point is the written word.
I can't exactly pass notes with a therapist.
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