Sunday, 9 October 2011

Hope and Self Hatred

When I'm sad and alone I sleep with the light on, even though I know it doesn't make for a good night's sleep. I don't know why I do it but there it is.

In the end I slept quite well. I woke at 5 and lay in the dark, waiting to feel sadness. I thought, Oh God, another 10 hours until I meet Virgil to talk. So I made tea and read a book about trees until I feel asleep again and then I slept until 8.30. 

Killing time and thinking of my priorities, I look for flatshares and part-time jobs. I glance briefly at Facebook and OkCupid to see if anything interesting is happening. It's not, and it makes me think that I will have to separate from Virgil on these forums too and how hard that will be. These aren't good thoughts. I don't know how to not think about these things. Inevitably tears come and that crumpling-in-on-itself body ache. 

I have a ridiculous, hateful hope that he will say come back home and let's try again, but I don't think he will. I wish I didn't have this hope. I think about how I don't want the petty arguments and tensions either. We lost each other at some point. Avoiding conflict, we must have stopped being honest and drifted. Even though we were still together we weren't talking, telling each other the important things. I don't know what's been going on in his head. There's so much I hadn't told him until yesterday, about being angry with him.

If I love him why can't I be respectful of him, kind and nice to him. Why am I such a fucking monster?

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