“you didn’t take anything away from what i have with sophie… it had nothing to do with me.”

we have built something amazing.

off-hand comments at dinner time, and sidelong glances across the table. i am guilty.

i am scared of what i’ll lose, which at this point is very wrong of me.

what have i done?

what if he never forgives me?

i’m so fucking sorry…

i have HOPE!

http://media.putfile.com/Iron-and-Wine—The-Trapeze-Swinger

there is too much. my school, my family, my lover, my friends, my doctor, my job. the mess in the kitchen, the mess in the living room, my messy room, the medication, the bills, the groceries, the cat, the plants on the windowsill. the music, the photographs, the television, the pencils and thick white sketchbooks, the sunlight on the wall. the cravings, the lonliness, the disappointment, the misunderstanding, the miscommunication. i am not special. it’s just too much.

it’s late. i should go to bed.

i found the music i was looking for, a couple of beautiful songs that make me heartsick. i don’t know if this counts as a little bit of satisfaction at the end of an unsatisfying day; or if it just makes me feel more restless and unsatisfied by my unrealized hopes, and anxious thoughts of wasted times, both already past and still to come.

i took pictures of my loved ones with my new camera. i had been too afraid to use it. jar sits on my bed, making up his own language to describe the new world with which he is engaging. i am happy.

don’t worry, just start moving. inertia will do the rest.

i dreamt i sat down next to him, and he put his hand on my leg. we talked about nothing till i woke up.