after all this time. after all of the encounters. there i was, feeling like a sad, helpless fucking child all over again and not understanding why. why i always cared so much. a long time. me, the pessimist? but after all this i still can't give this up? i can't stop hoping for the best? i always kind of hoped if i ever really got to know you (which i thought i never would,) i would figure out i wouldn't really like you. like all of that feeling would disappear and i would write it all off. and now i know you. i know you. and i shouldn't have let this happen and why do i constantly let other people have all of the control. why i accept that everyone fucks up and why do i have to understand the underlying meaning behind every fucking shitty thing you do to me and tell you it's okay. i say it's okay because it's safe to say i don't care that much about me until it gets this bad. it's so sad. i am willing to put myself through all of this to actually feel something for once. i haven't felt for so long. i don't know what's real. nothing is real. everything is real.

the cat slept in between us. my eyes were closed but i didn't sleep.