"Such a lonely day, and it's mine"
August 8th
"It's a day that I'm glad I survived."
I just ... don't even know where to start.
I told Thom. I'm weak, I know. But I can't lie to him, not in any way that would be effective or make sense or be even remotely plausible if we keep spending so much time together. It's moot now, he knows. He saw. I feel so bad for it. There's just ... no way to say it that sounds sane, and showing -- which is what I did -- is just terrifying.
Why couldn't I have ended up with like ... cotton candy wings? I look like a fucking demon. But he bore it. So far. I dunno if that means it'll sink in more later or ... if he's really okay. It worries me. Everything about him worries me. I didn't want to leave him at all, but daddy didn't sound too happy on the phone, so I came home. To a message from Caleb, which was kind of surprising.
Two invites to the same event. Aren't I just Miss Popularity? I tried to call him back, but he didn't answer.
... what is it that he can't tell me? What what WHAT?! It hasn't even been a day yet, and it's driving me insane. And why can't he? Is he in danger? Is somebody watching him, making sure he doesn't tell? Will he like, break out in boils or his tongue will fall out -- which would be a crying shame -- or something? See, this is my problem. Give me a tidbit, and I've imagined a novel about it already. SIGH. If he can't tell me, maybe I'll just ... be able to figure it out. I'll be watching. If I can stay not-distracted, because damn, that boy.
... bleh, here I am worried about him one minute, then hot for him the next. Blasted hormones. Or something. Maybe it's just him.
I'm a rotten girlfriend.
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