...120702, 0904hr, central time...

we've run out of milk in the house. so i ate my cereals with orange juice. think it'll give me a stomachche, no? actually i would have eaten my cereals with beer, if not for the fact i'm on painkillers and i vaguely remember a warning not to take my medication with alcohol. don't think this is a good time to try to kill myself.

yesterday's good mood lasted for a while. then i broke down again. at night. for no apparent reason. i just did. i was bawling my eyes out, i was so desperate for someone to talk to, yet no one was around. not even on icq. no one. i wanted to talk to him so desperately, so desperately.

finally poach came on icq, i cried out to her in pain, in desperation, asking for help. i really needed help, i couldn't stop the tears myself, i felt like i was lost again, plunged into the darkness by some unknown hand. i was a total mess, i was disgusted with myself and yet i couldn't help myself. so i had to ask her for help. and i'm so glad it's her, rather than some other person, because i know poach knows the situation, she knows me, and she loves me enough she will help me. she says he's just such an emotion-retard i should just talk to him, or he won't know anyway. it's only my pride in my way. i should write to him, if i want to.

so i wrote. i wrote another email to him, despite promising not to email till we can talk face-to-face. i took off my pride, and i wrote. i told him how i felt, how everything around me seems to remind me of him, how happy we used to be, how much i wish he'd love me, how much pain i am in.

my tears fell on my desk and made a funny design as they dried.

then i went to bed in tears, i did my best not to imagine what his reply might be in the morning.

but i still dreamt. it was a funny dream, it had talking squirrels and rabbits on a submarine, or ship or something. the captain rabbit got killed by a squirrel, because they had to turn back and the captain was too stubborn to do it. the strong-intelligent-killer squirrel said, "it's too late, i'm sorry, but it's too late. we have to turn back. there's no other way."

this morning, his reply was what i expected him to say.

i said he's probably happier now that i'm not around to bug him. he quietly replied, "no."

i said i know he doesn't mind breaking up. he quietly replied, "no."

i said i'm a emotional crazy woman, a resounding "YES!!"

i said i'm probably overwhelming him because he never knew how to deal with emotions, a heart breaking "YES!!"

so many words that came from my heart, that meant nothing to him. nothing to his heart. it's too late, we have to turn back. there's no other way.

from today onwards, i shall end the hoping. the wishing. the pining. the memories. from today onwards, he shall be exiled from my life, and i shall be exiled from the treacherous love as i've come to know it. from today onwards, i shall be on my own. to know myself. to love myself. to take care of myself. in all ways that no one has ever known me, loved me, and taken care of me.

i had to skip my classes this morning again, i so hate myself for this, considering it's just yesterday i got myself back in school routine. and there's an exam next week. but i can't help it, my eyes are swollen like crazy, i'd rather die than have more superficial sympathy poured onto me from classmates who don't know me.

i'm always the dumper, for some reason. i've felt a range of emotions being the dumper before, i've been sorry, apologetic, regretful, sad, angry, defensive. this time, the only thing i feel now is pain. like someone had reached inside my chest and wrapped his hand around my heart, and my lungs. i cannot breathe, i cannot scream, i can barely cry. but it hurts so bad.

he says he doesn't like it that my email made it sound like i'm the victim and he's the perpetrator. he says he's in pain too. really? i don't sense it, i don't believe he even knows what pain feels like. but no, i refuse to hate him, i refuse to be angry with him. he's still the person i know he is, he's not actually done anything wrong beyond being faithful to himself. no, he didn't do this to me. i did. i'm the one who did this to myself. i guess i only have myself to blame.

oh the day passes so slowly, i wish i can go back to sleep. but i'm afraid of the squirrel. i'm afraid of waking up again refreshed with hope that it was all a bad dream.