i realise that no matter what, i do believe in love. i have to. it's the only way i know.

in dreams you lose the heartache, whatever you wish for you keep

im miserable

im so miserable. i really am. i need to put a stop to this bullshit right now.

sometimes i think loneliness is abit like dying a little everyday

fuck it. i like allen. everyone can just fuck the fuck off. i dont give a damn.

this article squeezes my heart into a tight sad ball:
http://thoughtcatalog.com/2011/why-you-are-wrong-for-me/

i want a cynical, arms length relationship. but im not broken.

hard to kill, easy to live with.

im not hard hearted. i know that hurt and sadness lasts only until you stop wishing for the hurt to stop. i know that in love, unrealised hope is a bigger monster and harder to kill than crushing pain. i know that the only alternative to hurt and loss is purgatory. the former is always inevitable, why take a longer time avoiding it?

what you see is what you get. what you see is what you get?

So i get to thinking that maybe I am different from other girls. Maybe I can accept you as you are. With you, what I see is what I get. No complications, no games, not much passion or affection either. I like you, and I was comvinced for a while that I was the perfect girl for you. Because I wouldn't need much attention, or affection, or excitement. All I would need was a good person who would be there and listen to me. I was obsessed with finding a way to get you to realise I'm perfect for you too. To get you to want to be with me.

But lately I've been second guessing myself. I feel happy when you do the smallest things. Flirt or compliment me a little. Remember what I texted you one week ago. And I think. Is this what I deserve? To feel inordinately happy when you do the smallest things that dont require much effort? When you show the slightest indication that you notice and care about me? It's like...being one of those battered wives who are ridiculous happy when their husbands are normal and happy and not beating them up. Isnt it?

Then i think: but it's you. You're the exception. You're treat everyone with the same coldness. So is it not warranted that I be happy when you act slightly different to me? Only I can answer that question. I just have to trust myself. I have to trust that I know you well enough, that my feelings for you are not....bad for me or wrong. I have to shut out the naysayers, inside and outside my brain.

Because I know what I like about you, and those things are real. I know how cheaply excitement and affection and passion can come. But when they're from you, they're not cheap. You're the serious that tempers my false carelessness. You're the reality to my disconnect. You're the solemn to my awkward cheerfulness. You're the wit and sarcasm that I appreciate, and I'm the jokes that you appreciate.

So I normalise. I vacillate. But the irony is that, through all this excrutiation, I'm not desperate enough to lose you as a friend.