my Diaryland Diary

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one day I'll get to you, and teach you how to get to purest hell

It's so odd how even now, almost a year and half later how the betrayal can still hurt. How my hear can still clamp and seize in pain when I think about it. him. sex. how it can all wash over me, fresh as if it had just happened yesterday. How with release, my body will still cry out his name, even after so long; how he plays my soul with his fingertips.
and then again with scott. how i miss his kiss, his smile. how i let myself believe that it was possible for someone to like me. to want to be with me. to want to be the reason for my smile in the morning. i just want so badly to believe that someone could see me and still want me, or more importantly want me and see me. see me for who i am and what i think and how i feel, in all my headcase-y glory.
at my party on saturday some guy was doing a line off the tank of my toilet as i was in the bathroom removing my makeup, spilling his guts to me. about how he was worth millions, and how he still felt like a piece of shit. i told him i was worth less than nothing, and how it didn't help with the whole feeling like a piece of shit. he shook his head, looked at my tits and told me that he couldn't believe someone as sexy as i am could feel like a piece of shit.

cokehead.

this is my train of thought.
ugly people are in loving relationships. ugly on the inside; ugly on the outside.
I'm not ugly. Not on the inside. Not on the outside. So where's my love? Where? What makes me so special that I am unworthy of something meaningful.

i'm just so lonely.

surrriounded by people, and so so so lonely.

i can't even look at what i'm writing. i type this with my eyes closed, tears streaming down my face; i know i sound like a petty sixteen year old girl who has no real problems and thusly manifests something to feel upset about.

I just feel so bleak on the inside.

I do it to myself, and that's what really hurts.

12:16 a.m. - 2008-03-24

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