you are a blip, not a point

gij has been calling me, almost every night for the past few days. I sporadically hear from lizard, but from the others? nothing.
gij has a routine that can't be broken without repercussions. in order for anything to happen between us, I must infiltrate his life. Is it worth it? How can I figure that out unless I try? I have wanted to learn how to be patient. I am young yet. Do I have time?

Over 800 miles from the place I've made my home. I say, "I am looking forward to moving away." I am. Sometimes it feels like I've used up what I can of Providence. I know there's so much more than what I've seen and experienced but the town is too small. Too many people know each other. Nothing new is ever possible.

Bones has been bothering me. some people are better one on one. Is this what Steel meant when he said he felt uncomfortable when I was around his friends? that's how I feel about Bones. Some friends really add to interactions. Bones seems to subtract. I don't know how to express this and I don't want to say anything to her until I can give this information as a critique and not a criticism.

My throat is sore. my head aches. The shift key doesn't always work on this keyboard. other keys hiccup too. I can be happy I'm away. I can be happy to be home. I don't want to go home.

Glad I got rid of ex-otter's number so I can't call when I feel weak. His job almost closed and though I love that diner, a big part of me wanted it to fold just so he could be thrown into turmoil again. I hate that feeling. I hate the selfishness. I still want him to hurt. I still want to not want that. I want to be fine with my life and accept what has happened to me. I want to know what "move on" means. "What is love?" What do you know?
Power.
Control.
Love is not these things.

Love is wanting what's best for someone, isn't it? Even if you are not that thing. Love is acceptance, isn't it? If these are the definitions, perhaps I have never loved. But I swear, I swear I have felt it so passionately I wanted to die when the source was gone. I have died, I have been on the verge, and I have held mental knives to my wrists so many times I could swim away in the ghost blood. The bridges I have jumped, the traffic I have jammed, the pills I have swallowed, the bullet in the brain and the sleep I refused to end. Do you know these needs? Have you felt that? Ex-otter said no. How can someone love me if they do not understand that being suicidal goes into remission but is always hidden in my marrow? My body is made of bones and in the center of each one are the cells that make me who I am.

Even with my new-found fear of death, I can still yearn for it. I do not understand. I miss my life. I miss what I was going to have. "Sometimes all of this still feels like it isn't real." I am in Asheville. Two days ago, Frederick. Before then, Philadelphia. Then Providence. No arms. Just armor.

tell me you love me, just make sure you believe it.

things don't matter the way they used to. Or the way I remember that they used to; I am not certain that they ever mattered at all. Everything is temporary. Nothing stays. No one stays. This is a truth of life that I cannot comprehend or understand. Like death. Like loss. Like a love that hurts instead of nourishes.

I still remember the way he used to look at me. I remember his crooked lipped smile. I remember small things about all the people I have loved. Someday there will be someone who loves me for my small things. I hope. Another dream I try to hold onto, another dream I don't really believe in.