Now she's smiling, with herself put back together.

I broke down in the car tonight. Sure, I was all sorts of under the influence, but it was real.

Jaimie could probably taste the uncontrollable that was nestled in her passenger seat. We sat outside and I proclaimed, 

" I can't take what the world throws at me anymore." 

She expressed her opinion, she told me if I really couldn't take it anymore I wouldn't be here.

Then I think about all the times I've thought about offing myself, the ways I could do it, what would result in it, all sorts of terrible things. And I tell her, "you're right." Because she really is, and not because I'm drunk and in the most agreeable of moods. Sam says I need something solid, something reliable.  I just need something to stop the ongoing, commiserating party that goes on in the depths of my head. I'm going to lie down and wake up and forget I even wrote this.

On that note, when you look at me my insides want to crawl out of my mouth and go west. And you asked me why I look away when you look at me. You stir up a storm inside me.

Someone should untangle my stomach,

I feel so many things lately, I just don't have the energy to talk about them anymore.  It's all I can do these days is to wake up at a reasonable time and go about my day. It's pathetic because I've done the exact same thing every day for at least three months. I've got no obligations, no order, just the company of my friends. Something that, a year ago, I couldn't get enough of. But now I'd just as soon isolate myself so no one can ask me about how funny I thought the episode finale of Sunny was, or my opinion on how Brad and Angelina couldn't possibly be having a second pair of twins. I'm sick of opening my mouth for pointless, mindless garbage. I'm sick of opening my mouth period.

Even though I feel so disconnected these days, I don't think I've ever been so infatuated with anyone as I am now. And its the worst, when he's talking to the crowd and you want so badly for him to look at you while he's talking and you're just waiting for it and then he looks at you for that split second and you're okay, but only for that 30 seconds after and then you're back to wanting him to just make eye contact again, look at me again.  

You can tell everything shifts when I think about him, it's even evident when I write.