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useless me

All I wanted last night was to drink. Okay, that's not really all I wanted but at a point when the night was over, but there was no sleep to be had, all I wanted was to not live. Again.

I walked 20 minutes up to the nearest 24 hour gas station/mini-mart and bought a . . . [gasp] a Pepsi. I'm not sure what I was thinkin'. Pepsi??? Shoulda gotten a Coke. As I walked back to my current place of sleeping (not reallly my home considering my heart is in New York where it belongs) I was thinking how gross Pepsi is and all I wanted was some Jack Daniels whiskey in there so's I could get drunk, stinkin' drunk and not feel anymore. That was all I wanted, that or to be dead . . . or happily in love. Since #3 is out right now because I'm not considered worth being with, apparently, then death seems nice, especially considering last night.

For 3½ days things were really nice. We laughed and enjoyed talking with each other. I was there for her. Then last night it all seemingly went bad again. Six nights ago I was there for her until 6 in the morning. Until 6 a.m.!!!! Last night -- nothin'. Nothin'. I just don't get it. A three minute call just after 1 a.m. to say goodnight was nice and I loved hearing her voice . . . but I knew she'd quite possibly be awake until 3 or 4 easy. But nothin'.

After being continually hurt, she doesn't need that anymore. Hurt she was last night again -- sad, confused, feeling unimportant, like she'd rather disappear and be alone forever. How does that make me feel? I'm sad for her, that's #1. But it makes me feel like I'm also unimportant. I know she appreciates me. I know she even likes me. But why will she keep me away? Maybe she won't. But it feels that way. And that hurts so much.

Still I want to be her friend. For me to walk away would mean I should end my life because there's truly nothing for me. I don't want that. I want to be there for her, to lift her up, to care so deeply for her, to love her and never hurt her as she deserves, and let her know that I will always cherish her. She'd never be hurt or sad or feel unimportant because of me. She doesn't want that at all yet that's what she gets from someone else. I don't know what to do. This morning walking here to the library all I wanted was to step in front of a 45 mile per hour truck and see if I live or not. That's not me. She shouldn't make me want to kill myself. I want to live a beautiful life . . . but it's so hard to get there. After my last blog post, things changed for the better. My spirits were lifted and I felt we were getting closer. We were. Maybe things will change again today or tomorrow and we'll get back to something nice again, something that's truly the right direction as it was just 24 hours ago. I can only pray, I guess.

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Zoooma
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