no room

It's strange how this discontent comes flying back without any warning, or reason.

Drinking too much coffee, only causing my mind to race much to fast, unable to make decisions or figure out how to stop feeling so dizzy.

The overwhelming feeling of not wanting to be alone, following you around the house because the presence of another body at least calms me down slightly.

I never know what to do.

r, g

I wrote that for you.
I wrote this for you.
And I'm dying for your attention.

But at least I have the comfort that seeking someone's attention is so much easier than missing someone who broke my heart. All of the entries prior to now and after our meeting, I just don't feel them anymore. It's irrelevant.

In the words of my best friend in their last letter, "I think we're both just crazy."

That's fine with me, as long as it always gets better. For now, this is better.