"Each step I take, leads to one mistake"
October 13, 2003 12:15 a.m.

I feel like when he's holding my hand the way he does, lightly touching my fingers and feeling the smoothness of my nail polish it's almost like he's telling me I'm beautiful. When he covers my hand with his....when he makes it his silent mission to warm up my freezing hand, it's like he's silently saying he wants to protect and take care of me."

reading things like that...recalling all the good, all that was beauiful, it makes me want to cry because I just can't understand...and I start wondering "what if" again. ....regaining the desire to call or stop by his work. I just don't see how someone that caring and beautiful could be so cold and thoughtless and cruel.

fucking willpower.
October 11, 2003 11:30 p.m.

I'm sitting here looking pretty damn hot if I do say so myself. ....tight little black shirt with my boobs on display.

I just got from hangin' out with the boys....watching the Cubbies.

Home early (those bastards! I need to remember not to hang out with them on saturdays! Last saturday when I was hanging out with the other boys, it was MUCH more fun. ~sigh~ water water everywhere and not a drop to drink.)

All I really want to do now is to drive over to Jeff's, knock on his door, and say "Hey, I know I should be mad at you, but eh.....You wanna make out anyway?" .....cause that's all I want to do right now...is go and make out with him again...have him hold me close and fall asleep listening to him breathe....and kiss him again the following morning.

And that's why I can't do that. ...The fact that I'm so angry with him and the fact that I have more respect for myself than that are somewhat irrelevant.....but the fact that I couldn't detatch myself from the situation. I couldn't wake up the next morning and leave and forget like it happened. Go back to being alone every day.

So instead I'm sitting here, looking hot, typing this and planning on reading a bit and going to bed.

fuck him, man. Fuck him.

Oh and you know what really sucks? I realized this the other day....

I like the equavalate the sitation (and I've actually done this for awhile) to the Bourne Identity. When the 2 of them arrive in Paris the hottest woman in German cinema says to him, "you'll probably just forget about me" and he says, "How could I forget about you, you're the only person I Know."

He's the only person I've known in that manner...how could I forget about him? He will be forever be the first person I kissed (and I had gone 23 years without) and the first person to truly break my heart. And to him (this is what I realized the other day) ....if he ever remembers me at all....I will just be that girl he dated for a month one summer. fucking bastard. Fuck him. I'm so fucking better than that.