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The cold has finally set in, and this fact makes me so utterly happy that it isnapos;t even funny. Well, maybe in a morbid way.

The cold soothes me. Because then I donapos;t feel so misplaced in this world. The world around me is cold and barren and frozen too. In this season I really belong.

Gods, what the fuck am I supposed to say? I found that feeling of displeasure. And I found something to fill the gap. And lost it. But of course, I would lose the one thing I wanted more than anything else in the world. Itapos;s life for me.

Truth? Want the truth? Here it is:

I hate my life. Not my life, per se, but the blood pumping through my veins the air flowing in and out of my lungs. I hate my very exsitence. Iapos;m done with life, done with the hurt, done with the lies. Iapos;m done with crying myself to sleep at night, or similarly, not having any tears to cry at night. Iapos;m tired of hurting those I love, or being hurt in turn by them. Why canapos;t there just be happiness? Or hell, if not happiness then some kind of weird compromise to where Iapos;m not so miserable all the time? Why canapos;t I find a place where I am comfortable with me being who I am?

I canapos;t pretend anymore. I canapos;t live in this world and smile. Iapos;m not happy. And Iapos;m afraid Iapos;ll never know what happiness is again. I would trade whatapos;s left of my soul, my broken heart, my very humanity for one moment of pure happiness. But alas, I donapos;t have that many bargining chips. And then, who would want me? Iapos;d be more of a mere shell of a person.

Love is bitter and cold and will eat you alive.

So I guess Iapos;m dead. Those who fear love fear life, and those who fear life are already three parts dead. Well, I donapos;t just fear love, I detest it. I hate the very concept. I want to be alone and desolate. Oh, who the hell am I kidding? Iapos;m human. Of course I donapos;t want to be alone. Well, I do, but I donapos;t. Gah, if I could figure out my own heart.

Maybe the issue is that I have figured out my own heart, and itapos;s not what I want. My mind wants something different than my heart, my body something different than either. I want to scream. I hate self exploration. Nothing life finding your own demons.

In a drunken stupor, this brief conversation was had:

"I love you, you have no idea how much, and that will never change. I will never leave you behind."

"But you love him [meaning Rob] so thereapos;s nothing to be done."

Passes the fuck out.

And heapos;ll never remember it.

Nor will he remember me promising to walk away from Rob and everything I feel for him just to be with the one I love. And that doesnapos;t matter. Because I am destined to live a life alone.

Sigh.

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