i hate really long writeups
i wanna help, but we're running out of time, my mother tells me. i need a place to live. within the next two weeks i have to find a place to live. just thinking about it makes my head spin and my stomach gurgle. i visited school last week and remembered hating it. i don't want to go back this year. i can't afford not to.
the boy i liked, the boy who'd decided that i was sad and negative and blocked people out, and who'd decided to cure me of that, to make me happy and to make me let people in and tell them my secrets, who'd succeeded...and then disappeared for a month due to his own depression, which he wouldn't let me help him with, emailed me a few days back. holy shit is he incapable of the written word. i thought i was bad, but this email made no sense to me. i suppose that's what comes from dropping out of school, running away, living in foster care and on the streets, being a ritalin kid...he's brilliant in person though. makes me wonder, was emailing me a great effort? he told me he'd lost my phone number.
i know that line. i've heard it before. i've used it before. he was almost out of my head, but now he's back. the bastard.
and the 39-year-old who'd decided to fall in love with me keeps emailing me too. only his words are brilliant and beautiful and make me incredibly sad that there isn't a boy out there that would write me such things who wasn't old enough to be my father and who i could love back. this 39-year-old knows that i have no interest in him whatsoever...so it's alright, so long as i avoid seeing him in person.
my head hurts whenever i think about the future. all i want to do is curl up into a ball. or live at home forever and go back to highschool. except i hated highschool. with a passion. more than i hated school last year. i want to go to ireland. work in a bar. except i can't. i need to stay here where my dentist is.