Words Won’t Do

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Monday, August 15th, 1999

I went to bed all teary last night from reading http://fauve.cc anyways, but then I decided to finish “Nessecary Madness”. I wept over it for nearly an hour as she kept flashing back to her husband getting sicker and sicker in the hospital. And then he died, and I was bawling, and sniffling all over the place. The book finished on a bit of an up note, but once I turned out my light, I just kept on crying. I miss love so much. I hate being alone, and feeling like I’ll never ever get over this. I hate that he’s not talking to me, and I don’t know why. I keep wishing I was stronger, more self contained, and yet there’s just so much in life that I want to share with someone.

And do you know what really irks me? “Nessecary Madness” was written by a seventeen year old. Seventeen. That’s two years younger than me. How could she possibly have felt the depth of emotions portrayed in the book? Was it all a fake?

And does that mean that I’m faking it when I write of emotions that I’ve felt? No, surely not. The thing I wonder about is if in the future, things are going to be even stronger, more intense. I mean, I remember back to Ben and stuff, when I was sure that I was head over heels in love with him, and I was all of 15 then. Now looking back on that, it seems like a total crock of shit, that it wasn’t love or anything like that. So does that mean in four years time, I’ll look back on the way I’m feeling now and laugh, going “yeah right little girl – you thought that was love? ahuh, dream on, sweetie” I’m not sure I want that to happen. I don’t want to cheapen my feelings. At the same time though, I don’t want to be still cut up about this, four years from now.

And just on a side note, which, believe it or not is unrelated, I’ve been getting really strong ‘wanting to have kids’ urges. And that’s kinda scary. Maybe I’m trying to cop out, and have an excuse to not be everything that I used to think I could be, because to be honest, I don’t know what I want to be anymore. I don’t know what I want at all, apart from that I want to be whole.

Oh yeah, there’s a reason for the angst, I guess. I woke up bleeding, and I’m sure that’s so wrong, cos I just had a mini period like 2 weeks ago. I know I’m irregular, but that should make things further apart, not closer together.

I’ve spent today curled up in bed around Si’s hot water bottle. I wish Jo was here, cos then we could both sit in bed all day talking. Well, to be perfectly honest, there’s one person I’d have in bed in preference over Jo, cos I just long to be held, but I guess that’s never going to happen again.

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