quite lovely, yes?

(excuse the missing corners)

I've never been much of a carnation fan, but I've grown quite affectionate towards these particular blooms, perhaps because of the giver. And it's been something close to two weeks since you gave them to me, yet look how good they still look! My mother says carnations are hardy, but I am still surprised.

You are lovelier than any flower could ever hope to be.....I cannot help but wait, wait for it all to come crashing in on us. Most likely by my own fault, or some fatal personality-sandpaper flaw that will eventually bubble to the surface. Still, I am content to hold my breath. You are worth the possibility of wasted time.

bah

I still check the email every so often, hoping to see your name on white. Sometimes not for months, sometimes every week or so. Sometimes every day. I wish you would leave that crazy, crazy girl and come back to me, back to this crazy, crazy girl. I can't forget you. Even your physical presence is cemented in my mind. Unlike Luc says, it's not going away, and it's been years. How long does it take? I don't want to be 48 and still know your eyes, the shape of your head, your body, your hands, the humidity of your skin, the smell of your hair, and the occasional scratch and squeak to your voice. And the emotional component is so, so, so much worse. I can't believe you don't need me anymore. I don't know what I thought would happen. The opposite, I think. Damn, boy. You have scarred me and it's ugly.

someday, i will learn how to stop

bravery?

Signs from the Safe?

At work on Thursday I fed a ten dollar bill into the "money vending machine," as I call it, to exchange for a roll of quarters. This is what came out.


I apologized to Adam.

i don't really understand schrodinger's cat

Today a girl with a thick European accent came into work asking for directions to Dayton. Her eyes were very pretty in an understated way.

"If I go this way to 2...40?"

"270?" I offer, and her eyes light up in recognition.

But of course, always horrid with directions, I wasn't much more help than that. When she tried to open one of the maps and was confused as to why it was sealed shut, I pointed out that she'd have to buy one if she wanted to use it.

"Oh! In Germany you don't have to buy." Of course I thought of Adam Rose, feeling a little bit guilty for the last contact we'd had, missing him a little.

But of course I couldn't repress a little inward snort, too. I would run into the German going to Dayton.

Thursday

A dillion pregnant women came into work.
I thought more about slicing the cut down my arm.
There was a letter from Adam Rose.

it's the little things that make you worry

Is there a nice way to tell someone you want to blow them?

No, I don't think there is.

vapid as the new chiz

Since I got to Delaware, I've been sleeping more than usual and have had an absolutely insatiable craving for chocolate. I am absolutely ridding the house of all things chocolate. I went up to 120mg of Cymbalta a week or so ago.....mostly I've just had dry mouth and my skin itches all over for no apparent reason.....so I'm contributing it to that. I feel like I'm more lethargic and unmotivated than ever (ex. my only goal for today was to repaint my nails and I didn't even manage that). Going through cycles of extreme to moderate self-destructiveness, although so far I've held off on actually acting on it.

I've been thinking about my ghostie SO MUCH, and today I actually cried at some gay-ass Wether's Original chocolate caramel commercial. sigh sigh sigh.

I fear I will one day accidentally smother Adonis to death 'cause I can't stop squeezing him, he's so fucking precious. Clearly I would not do well with a human child.

I've been feeling the need to talk talk talk everything out of my head and into reality a la Cora Sharpe.

Today I felt internally fidgety, anxious, impatient, yet still managed to spend the overwhelming majority of the day on the couch.

Also I've decided the medical community should rename MDD, 'cause there's a huge difference between feeling depressed or being depressed and.....having depression, and it gets confusing. The disorder is so much more varied and complicated than the single emotion. And no one who doesn't have it fucking gets it.

ALSO, I've decided that the description of MDD as an episodic thing that you can get, be treated for, and then it will eventually go away is BOGUS BULLSHIT and they only say it to make people feel better when they first realize they have it. Depression isn't circumstantial. Not the real thing. It's not the emotional equivalent of a flu you can get after your dad dies or you have a baby or you're stressed out at work. If you've got it, if you're really depressed, you've got it for life, baby.

If One Drinks Much from a Bottle Marked Poison...

A few nights ago a beautiful black man came into work. He looked like money and good taste. He struck up a conversation with Summer and I, in the course of which we learned he was from Chicago. An odd, unexpected little feeling crept into me. A small strike of pain. But it wasn't just my memory. Yeah, the mention of Chicago made me think, "Oh yeah, the White Rabbit," but it wasn't in my brain. It was in my heart. Which was weird, because I thought it was just the betrayal and the rejection and his pretty, pretty shell, but I guess I actually miss him a little, too. Hmm.

sugarloaf

Flat green, with a tinge of yellow-brown that I hate (which usually goes all the way around like a flower).

After work: smudgy make-up, shiny skin.

I like my eyes, I think they're pretty, and people, sometimes strangers even, occasionally compliment them. But they still fall short to me. I wish they were all green, and more vibrant. But as it stands, here they are.

They are tragically, supposedly, the color of jade.

The St. Valentine's Day (E)Massacre

I'm legitimately merry until after dinner, reheating my latte in the microwave, when I suddenly find myself counting up their Valentine's Days. Realizing that I am no longer the main romantic girl in his life story. She is.

I have to step into the living room, away from everyone else. I bite my thumb, blink very hard, breathe deeply and command myself that I'm fine, fine, fine. I step back into the kitchen.

So we've established quite well that I don't feel as if I can live without him. But I can't have him. Soooo, now what? I can't stop living. But I'm just not sure how exactly to go about it.

Hmm. Happy Valentine's Day.

I wonder how you feel about tequila. We never got around to talking about that.

Oh, my Ghost, my Phantom Lover. I miss you.

It's been over two years, yet somehow I still stubbornly and firmly believe our red thread is stretched and tangled. Stretched and tangled, but not broken. How long will I believe that?

"[Her] life was a much smaller affair, surrounded on all sides by these ever-darkening, incomprehensible nights and day."

-Delusions of Grandma, Carrie Fisher, page 13

Angela Gets Rejected Shortly Before Valentine's Day -- Again

The White Rabbit did not come today like he's been professing excitement towards for absolutely weeks. Moreover, he failed to tell me he wasn't coming. But wait! There's more! Two calls, one text, and one message later...I think this is me being officially ignored.

Okay. Third Time's a Charm got over me in a matter of hours, so if this chap's another contestant on Who Can Get Over Angela the Fastest?, I am ready to accept that. Perhaps not pleasantly ready, but ready. But if the lack ---

Oh, wait. A reply.

A simple explanation. WHY COULDN'T THIS HAVE BEEN SAID TWELVE HOURS AGO?!?!

*sigh* This is getting exhausting. And I'm only 20! No wonder single chicks in their 30s tend to get so wigged out... Okay, I didn't phrase that right, it sounds offensive in my head. But, you know what I mean. Shit, Adam Rose moved to Germany without telling me, I should get a free pass for people to be conscientious of me, for at least a little while.

White Rabbit aside, it doesn't help that the images of bloody wrists and high-rise jumps have been haunting me ever since I arrived in Delaware. Confession: I've been wishing I had the courage. To do it right this time. Sooooo, a silly boy that I fell for like a silly girl acting sterotypically male and his age? Not helping me feel any better.

Blah.

"Some day you're gonna look back and realize how good we have it."

I make it half-way down Hills Miller before I start yelling. "It's not fair, that you get to move away, and start a whole new life, in a whole new place, and be perfectly happy, and never come back here, and I have to come back here all the time and SEE YOUR FUCKING FACE EVERYWHERE!"

Adonis' head snaps up. I pat him. "Not you."

A minute later I sigh and say aloud, "No. It's fair. I'm just upset."

Once again, it's all closing in on me. Nothing can be done. There's no escape from you in this town.

sunday morning

In the shower I wait till he puts conditioner in his hair before sinking my fingers in, thinking of teddy boys. He makes the face but lets me have my way. I slick the sides back and mold a DA at the nape of his neck. I attempt a curl over his forehead, but the weight of the conditioner makes it flop against his wet skin. I grin, hold him by the chin and turn his head from side to side. He blushes; I groan. "You would be so sexy as a greaser!" He shakes his hair loose and steps under the water.

saturday night/sunday morning

The girls sit on the bed or the floor. I'm naked as the day I was born and so is the White Rabbit; PR is like 15-year-old Travis with his pants at half-mast. Everyone is talking, solidly drunk and happy. We tease each other, kiss each other, take shots of Jack and share cigarettes. We're still young. We're dumb. I know it.

I love it.