-crying. against the huge fluffy red pillow on the living room couch. why can't it work, why won't it work? i walk and feel as if i could just fall into someone's arms. whose? matt's seem so lethal. i look to places in my house where he once stood. the opening between my kitchen and living room, outside my front door, on top of the steps. everytime my eyes wander, it's as if i expect to see him. and then he's not there. it cuts like a knife.

every night i expect to see him. he's not there.

i dont know how many times i've called him tonight.

last night was friends night. so why weren't we together tonight? why can't we ever spend time, just the two of us, for longer than a few minutes?

I look into corners and hallways and armchairs and sofas, imagining his frame, imagining his face and smile and voice...and he's not there.

my face is tight with quasi-dry mascara.

cell phone, please ring...i want to hear the C-E-C-E-F-D-F-D....

doorbell, please ring.. i want to see his face, hopeful and shy at the risk of showing up unannounced.

Epiphany-please resound- I need something, anything, to say to him. To let him know what he's doing. To make him understand how I'm feeling. So he can feel this constant procession of salt, this dry, flaking mascara and the fruitless visionary search.

i suppose it's back to being numb now. back to monotony. after all the issues of the weekend, i realized that i had singlehandedly closed my heart to him. i didn't want to feel- there was bad with the good and it was killing me. i just wanted to create the illusion that we were well. but. i realized that- it won't suffice, and if i constantly do that, i will always go crazy and do things with random people, and then hurt other people because of my lack of real thought.

so i tried to FEEL. every kiss was real. and pure. the way he smelled, his eyes, they made me melt.

but now when he sets aside his leftover time for me, to the point where i might not even get any at all- this is raw as well. all i want to do is cry. i cry so much, i cried two nights ago on the floor. it was a while before he found me, and he almost left until i keeled over and just bawled.

he thinks i don't care. about him. or us.

so, should i slit my wrists infront of him to prove how i care? the extent of how i feel for him? should i cut open my throat and bleed all over his bed- one sacred place i want to always spend time. my tears, my words, my touch,- it's not enough for him. to believe me.

so what now, matt? Loven? what is it going to take to appease you- what will give, to make me happy?

I WANT YOUR TIME, I WANT YOUR LOVE. I NEED IT. WHY. IS IT NEVER YOUR IDEA THAT WE SEE EACH OTHER? WHY? WHY IS IT ALWAYS MY IDEA, AND MY PLANS-YOU NEVER EVEN SUGGEST WE HANG OUT, LET ALONE CHOOSE WHAT WE DO.

and the one time you DO suggest that we see each other is the day I work from 2-9, being tomorrow. I told you this, and i'm SURE you just. um. forgot.

i make you out to be so bad...it's not as bad. as it seems. it's so complicated, i can't make sense of it.

i need your love. why can't i have it?

on a brighter note, i hung out with marc tonight and he listened to me blab about fashion and clothes and trends as we browsed store windows. it was nice.

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