It's almost 2.00 and I can't asleep. I am in my apartment for a change and it seems ages since I have been here. Somehow my life has one again slipped out of my hands and bacame someone else's. My work, my romance, or whatever it is, my body is in the hands of something other than myself. I don't even know what to start with.
In a week or so I will meet P.'s family and I feel so unready for that. I mean, I will not only meet them, but stay with them for 10 whole days. But I don't want to go anywhere. I gave myself one year, and the year is almost up. A lot has happened in this year, more than I can ever imagine, but right now, I feel the way I did in the beginning. It could all end right now. And that would be a relief. I am not saying that I am nowhere near anywhere so awful as I was last year. After all, all I had to hear was "I don't want to live with you". All I had to endure was never hearing I love you, but once. I was not dumped on the curb this time, and he is sleeping in my room peacefully as a mouse.
I felt my boss look at me with pity today, there was a presentation by someone and at first he seemed pleased when I participated but then he looked like I took it too far. Or maybe I imagine, maybe I am hypersensitive. P. says if I could see what other people see I would not worry about them not liking me. But all I feel is the pain in my body and the tears in my throat, and oh, yeah, I have tapeworm. I am so disgusted with myself. But when I told him he laughed. He was not disgusted. But he doesn't love me, not in the way that I need to be loved.
Comment from 18.12: I finally drafted this post and forgot all about it, but now I think I was wrong. I am loved exactly the way I need to be loved, 90% of the time, and it's only fair to mention that, but sometimes there is a burning hell inside me that just isn't satisfied with anything.