thusly_boned (original) (raw)

Hell's blazes, it's been a while.
So much has changed. Boys are stupid, music doesn't argue. Food is good, especially candy and veggies. Back in school, and releived that I've only got one more year of public education and I'll be done. It looks good, though, the sophomores are so cute. Cuter than we were, I daresay. So here I am, contemplating things and having a drink before bed. A clear substance that is too expensive, but I partake anyway. So many things to think of, so many things I want to do, but none of them here. I've got that itchy feeling in my bones like tacks are poking them and I have to do something, anything, to keep from lapsing into nothing. I sit back and try to relax, but there's no such thing in my case. Sweat and alcohol and sugar are all pouring out of my pores and I just want to feel closeness. Physical closeness to a person. A person that lives, breathes, and has normal parts inside that all slosh around in a soothing way. I must sound crazy, but sometimes I think too much. Sometimes I want to do and not think, how I wish I could be so impulsive all the time! Just last week I needed that spontaneous insanity, but it left me right when I needed it most. There's someone on here I'm thinking of, and I bet he doesn't know it. Or if he does, he's being ridiculously neurtral about it. But he's warm (physically and otherwise), he's something weird and special, and he's got my attention. Which is more than I can say for most things as of now, even books and alcohol and sugar, those things I love so dearly. I need to exercise this energy, this itchy-pins-in-the-bones-feeling. I'm so happy, but I still want more. I love my job, I'm pleased with school, I have friends I love...I have all the food and medicines I need to live....what's missing?
I know what's missing.
But am I going to go for it, or am I just going to sit around and look at it like it were a game of hangman?
It's not the same as hangman, but I can see the resembalance from here.
You can take the kid from the fight, but not the fight from the kid. Relax, relapse. Nasty cycle, but here I am again on the relapse end of it.
Relax, relapse. Perfect way to explain this. When I'm distanced from things like that, the closeness, I mean, I get to be so calm and apathetic. I'm not like that at all, where's my all-consuming PASSION? Then once I get just a taste--a tight, warm embrace, maybe a kind word, a moment of odd bonding--RELAPSE! I'm right back to the bibbling ball of addiction I am. Only this is worse than narcotics or sugar. No, it's much worse. Well, I deal. I have to.
So here I go, going to polish off this bottle and this package of peach rings and fall back onto the bed. Maybe pick a little at my algebra homework. But I'm going to convince myself that nothing too awful can happen. No, I won't get hurt this time. Even other people think I might be on to something.
Whit.
Chase.
Thanks for the encouragement, and in her case, the semi-encouragement-type-bit.
Sigh, good night and good luck. May all your mornings feel like the best of afterglows. Mine have.