it’s been a horribly long night of black-belted insects who wrote me pieces of her heart crumpled into balls thrown across hushed hallways into darkened rooms and cheating astronauts who left us all none the wiser and tears under the duvet, buffered by the discussion of the diagnosis of pregnancy and the significance of serial measurements of the hormone hCG.
and i realise once again, what i have realised before, on many prior nights not unlike tonight (but with different casts of demons) -
that you are simply not worth any of this.
the sound of a closed door is the sound of my breaking (broken?) heart…
but enough melodrama. 698 words to go…
and then another 12000 more.
may the powers that be bless my soul.
amen.
(no – seriously. -_-)
black-belted insects and astronauts have even since then been things of the past - i sometimes catch myself being amazed at the emotions they used to conjure in me - as evidenced by snippets of writings i occasionally stumble across.

(i am struggling with expressing myself - i should stop talking to x)

i can never believe how strongly i felt for certain people; i can no longer believe that i strongly feel for anybody.