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< i've broken every bone | posted at 11:25 pm on October 15, 2003 > more to my previous entry, to understand, please read it.i remember: andy: sarah, when are we going to stop getting with each other while drunk? ; me hearing a phone receive a message, thinking it was mine (they look the same!!), reading it ('just do it, worry about it later') then realising it was andy's and dropping it like a hot potato and having to own up later when he was asking who had read his messages (also note there were many subsequent messages, i just didn't read any)... there was no awkwardness the next day or the day after that (birthday party where we were both), no discussion either - and knowing him, there won't be unless i get really drunk and call him from the office again, like last time. like vyv points out, i probably do want him to want me, but unlike her, i don't think i have the power. and i'm torn about whether or not i do like him. i don't think i do, i'm not cut that nothing is going to eventuate from this, and if he were to ask me out, i would say no, because he doesn't like me enough to treat me well (past experience). i think the situation we have now is perfect, this whole lack of emotional attachment (as purported it may be) - oh yeah - i also remember: andy: besides the physical stuff, which i think we both enjoy, we don't have all that much in common. hell, YEAH. we have NOTHING in common. which brings me to point: why i am down and feel i shall be for a while: i don't have much in common with ANYONE. i realised that i can't talk to anyone, i just can't. it's hard enough writing this stuff down to unseen masses. i can't discuss things, i can't open up. i can't talk about my personal issues, and it's starting to bear down on me. the weight, i mean. oh, i don't know what i mean. i'm also sick of trying to articulate in this fucking diary. in fact, i'm sick of the diary in general. i'm thinking of going cold turkey. it doesn't feel like that release anymore, like i started it for. it doesn't feel like enough. what else do i remember? other stuff. i remember how much he has hurt me, despite not wanting to. i do remember that. so what the fuck is wrong with me? those last five |