“there’s a million questions…is it about me, what is it you’re not saying?”
I started writing on here thinking that it was only for me. Then I finally accepted that really it wasn’t, just for me, but for Mike too. Then, last night I gave in and sent him a couple pages. I don’t know what I hoped to come of it. Relief, I guess. I actually made myself physically sick because of everything I’ve been keeping to myself. I used to think that getting it out would be enough, and so I started this. But it didn’t help that much. There’s just so much and having no one who I need to say things to read it, makes it irrelevant. I wanted him to read it. I wanted give him another little slice of my mind. It doesn’t mean I should’ve, but I wanted to. And even more than being tired of being misread, I’m tired of not honestly doing what I want. I guess I’m pretty childish right now. I feel rebellious, but to feel rebellious you have to be pushing against something… what am I pushing against? Myself I suppose. I don’t know. But anyway, I did it. I did feel relief today. Last night, all I felt was fear and doubt, but today- utter freedom. Like I would finally get a better sense of where I really stand. How much I can really trust him. And if he leaves my life, he leaves my life. I lived before and I would live again.
“if you need to not talk for a bit I’m ok with that you know, I won’t think any malice.’
It wasn’t what I wanted, but in some ways it’s better. It still brought tears to my eyes though I’m not sure why. I don’t even know what I expect from him, but somehow nearly every way he responds either hurts or makes me lose myself. Neither is healthy, but that doesn’t mean I won’t indulge. And even though I need a break, it doesn’t mean that I am capable of taking one. And it doesn’t mean I want to either. I don’t. I just wish I could build up a tolerance to your drug. So I could handle higher doses… I wonder how I can build that tolerance….