morose. hormones kicking in. feeling angst because, as expected, there is only silence and distance from the guy that mere days ago, i was all giddy about.
my roommate has the worst timing ever. he hugs me and tells me he’s glad i’m here and all i can think is, ‘yeah, but…’ as in ‘you’re awesome, but…’
ugh. yeah. hormones. fucking weepy ass things. i yearn for menopause and the end of them. maybe then i can finally get over the awful loneliness and figure out how to just enjoy being alone.
yes, i know, it ebbs and flows. yes, i know most times, it doesn’t bother me. but here, now, it does and when it does, it feels like the weight of the fucking universe strung in my chest, swinging slow and ponderous from my sternum; a heavy thing that makes it hard to breathe and all i can do is cry.
i wish i could feel as if telling someone i care for them, want to love and be loved by them, want to grow old and senile with them would result in more than blank looks, that moment of terrible pity, and of course, the uncomfortable silence that says so much.