it's what you do that makes you who you are

Sometimes a weird night is what it takes to make a shitty time better.

Because of my experience with the pictures of ex-otter, I've been somehow even more self-reflective. I did not know this was possible. Steel and I had sex yesterday and afterwards we were talking and I started crying. I said, "I miss having someone to have adventures with, and ride bikes with, and get distracted by things, and go exploring." That was ex-otter for me. Most of the time it's hard to imagine there being anyone who was so independently weird, so different, able to add his own strange animalness to our relationship. Nobody else had ever done that before. It was always amazing to me. I miss that creativity.

I don't know how to think about things. I want him to be wrong, to regret leaving me. He doesn't. I want to not hurt like this. I am still using sex as a replacement for love. I am not used to people wanting me. I am getting tired of fucking people. Not tired enough to stop yet. I feel like this is medicinal. But is sex my methadone? Can I overdose accidentally? What will happen then?

Why is Steel different? Why is he more than sex? I am so lonely. I am gradually reaching out to people. Yesterday I sobbed and it felt real. I asked him to let down some of his defenses. Today I woke up at 2pm and he'd sent me a text, called me twice, and written an email trying to get in touch with me. I think I love him.

I am finding a little peace within the turmoil. It's not the eye of the hurricane. It's wandering through pouring rain and finding that one spot beneath the tree where it's mostly dry. Or the sheets of rain slicing up the pavement; but it's irregular and you can sometimes walk through it without getting hit.

Kicked a boy out of my apartment last night because I found out he had a girlfriend. And I ask myself, "Why didn't deafgirl do that with ex-otter?" She was worse; she pursued him. At least I'd just been lied to by omission. At least I called him scum as he left.

You two don't know anything.

Hell, neither do I. It's about time I admit that. It's about time I take my life back as my own and not some kind of shattered thing he walked away from.