Sometimes I think I could write a self help book on how to survive a breakup. Sometimes I think im doing so well, that i'm so strong, that this has been a positive learning experience from which I am growing and will grow.
someitmes I feel equanimous about ABEL, even about SLUT. I wish them well. I feel glad about the past and look forward to a bright wise future of firm firendhip and fond memories.
then there are days when I want to beg her to take me back. Even if she has to fake it. I'll pretend, I do along with it. anything. I miss her smell, her hnds, her bits. It aches. every single cell aches.I curl up and sob and moan and beg silently that somehow I'll survive this.that I wont have to feell it agian, or forever, or for much longer, or forever, or whatever.
Yesterday; ladypain, sadness, fatigue, psycho slandering neigbour. I los thte plot. so so sad, and she was the only person who could comfort me. I needed her. Happy to accept whatever care she could give. No we didn't fuck. Just hugged, held. needed.
she fed me last night and then I had indigenstion from hell at about 4am. another night of shit sleep. Another 5kgs lost. SOmetimes the physicla pain is easier than....what a cliche!
so sad. Went to the MCA yesterday to escape. the doco about cahun made me so full of longing. two mad women playing dressups. Defiant, crazy, brilliant. It's gone now.
Feminism and the Institutions of Intimacy
1 week ago