Tonight was very truly a pleasurable night. putting aside that I didn't leave my room, and spent the better part of the evening curled under an electric blanket and in physical pain, it was a calm and somewhat productive night.
That is, it was a pleasant night until I allowed myself the weakness of indulging in a whim. Touching one of my scars, I reached out for my drug of choice; and I took a sip, one small and ever so slight taste of that calm, reassuring presence.
Every time we talk it hurts. I can't explain it. I want to see you; I had thought myself over these feelings of loneliness, but I suppose I have simply become more adept at covering them, or filling the void you left in my life. I can't understand it. Why must these pointless wounds linger, and why around such a person? I can't bring myself to break away, I can't bring myself any closer either. Is this the fate I've left myself, this cruel irony to live in a life of my creation, and to live with the ghost of every love I've left broken in the wake of ambition? What a sadist, this mistress who takes all I have, what a demanding bitch- and yet I feed her more to keep myself afloat. How much more will I have to leave behind before I'm through? I can hardly breathe, my head hurts, and you're not here to comfort me. It is a very cold night.
"Feel something, feel nothing, listen closely, listen closely". My pride won't let me leave or give up. "You will find me when it's quiet, listen closely. Listen closely" I can't come back, I will make something of myself before next we meet. I can't stomach this weakness and loathe the me who would succumb to it.
"anata ga inakute sabishii desu".
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