Saturday, 19 March 2011


I walked through the park today. My eyes met the sight of children. Several children, smiling, laughing, running after each other as if being pulled by some gravitational force. Playing football, riding on swings, throwing balls to their friends who would catch it without question. They all had one thing in common.
They were happy.
I wish I could go back to a time where everything was okay. Where I was still innocent. Where 'dirty pictures' were ones thumbed too many times with chocolate fingers, where I thought 'sex' only referred to gender. Where an excuse for being upset was something like 'I spilled orange juice down my new dress', not 'I'm on my period and I feel like shit.' 
Where the only reason I wouldn't see my best friend in the entire world, the one I would do anything for, the one I loved so much I couldn't even realise it, was because they got sick, or they'd died.
Not because they lived 200 miles away and had controlling parents who are now re-thinking everything they thought I was. 
Everything got to me today. Everything is so messed up. I feel violated, and belittled, and like it won't ever get better. Something I've been waiting for since December 29th, 81 days, something I've been working towards, living for, now might not even happen.
And I didn't know who else to blame but myself.
I slept awfully last night, no doubt tonight will pose the same story. So I ran to the place I know I'll be at home.
The sea.
I walked to the edge of the pier, and stood right at the edge, where the rails are low and its possible to jump to a watery grave. I stood there and leaned over, risked my life, to feel... something more than the pain I was feeling. I needed to feel alive. I needed to get rid of everything poisoning my head, killing me from the inside out. I wasn't even feeling pain... I don't know what it was. It hurt, and it felt bad, and it dulled everything. I hated it.
I still feel it.
Because everything is still fucked.
I still hate it.
Come home, please. I've been waiting for so long.
I need you, because you're the better half of me. Its not me just wanting you, or just lusting you, or just loving you. Its all of those things. I need you, to stay sane.
Bold statement? Yes. 
Also yes. 
I cannot physically function for another two months if I don't see you in the middle somewhere.
Pray for me.