11:52 a.m. | 2005-07-29
Cry, Cry, Cry
The other night I clicked on my older entries link, and clicked back to when I came back from Boston. I clicked back trying to figure out who I was then and how I changed in a year.
I was almost disgusted with what I read.
I remember feeling that way, I do, but in my head I've sugar coated events. I've made them hurt less by putting that little layer on them that they put on pills. That way when I swallow them they don't burn my stomach and I don't have to think about them as anything but a hazy event that happened in the past.
I heard devestation in my voice that I'm not sure any of you can read. I felt the way my stomach ached and how I couldn't sleep for days because of him or something else. And Will was right when he says, "well, it's actually all about him." This entire thing is all about him, and I don't want it to be. Go away Gabe, stop flirting with me, stop making me want to be more than friends, stop turning me on.
I'm getting better, though, I can feel that at the very least. And I'm working on a new project.