Homesick (Lesbian)

CHAPTER 6: Diary Entry #107

Diary Entry #107

I'm tired.

I'm always tired these days. It's not like I don't sleep. I mean I sleep well enough. I sleep as much as I always sleep. I go about my day as I always do, I exercise as much as I always exercise, I eat what I always eat and I work the amount I always work. I'm just tired all the time.

It's like getting out of bed is just such a fucking drag. Like I can't be bothered. Like the world and its insistence on spinning around on itself annoys me.

I know that's my depression acting out again. Or maybe it's me being a whiny asshole.

I mean why should I be allowed to complain? I brought this upon myself. No one made me, no one forced me, no one put a gun against my skull and told me 'You know what you need? You need to leave'. If anything everyone screamed at me not to do something so enormously stupid. She begged me not to do something this stupid. I mean, no, it wasn't stupid. Or maybe it was, maybe I'm just saying it wasn't stupid so I don't feel bad with myself and with the pain I've caused.

Yeah. It was stupid. But what's done it's done and can't be taken back.

Wait, what was it I wanted to say? Oh, right. I got up that morning like any other morning. Before sunrise. I made my bed like always and put my boots on. Before I could get up I rested my elbows on my thighs and rubbed my face with my hands. I was trying to wake myself up, to give myself some kind of stimulus to force me to keep going. So finally I did and stood up.

I did what I was supposed to, like always, I had a moment to myself, like always, and I decided that I didn't want to be with myself, like always. 

There's nothing more terrifying than being alone with yourself. I learned that in solitary once. That's a story for another day. It happens surprisingly quick. You should try it. Remove all manner of distraction from a room. TV, computer, books, pen and paper even, leave your phone outside and just sit down inside a room with nothing to do but to be with yourself.  I assure you you'll be crying within the first hour.

I personally held it together remarkably well. I mean, I only made up one imaginary friend to keep me company. His name was Luthor. I never understood why, it's not like I like the name. I was in solitary for four whole days and by the time I came out I was having full-on conversations with myself out loud. But like I said, that's a story for another day.

I guess my point is, being in solitary and being lonely are very much alike. Except in one of those scenarios you have the wonder of human inventions to keep yourself from going to very dark places inside of you, and the humans' short attention span to go along with it.

I know that's what she's doing. I know she's dating someone, I know she's been sleeping around, and I know she refuses to talk about me.

I can't say I blame her though. I could've handled things better. No, actually that's unfair. That makes it sound like I handled things okay, just not as well as I could've. 

I did not handle things 'okay'. It was an absolute disaster. And there are so many things I wish I would've done differently. And by that I mean I wish I would've done EVERYTHING differently. Has that ever happened to you? That you do something and at the time, it feels... odd, but you just can't stop yourself from doing it, like you're in autopilot and by that point, you're like "Well, I'm way too committed to turn back so yeah, let's keep going. It's not like I'm making a long-lasting decision that can redefine my life and the lives of those around me, is it?" and then time goes by and you ask yourself, "What the fuck were you fucking thinking, you fuckface!"

I mean, in my defense I was left unsupervised and I am known to make poor choices. Wow. That was a pathetic excuse. I mean, of course, I was left unsupervised. I was supposed to be the strong one this once. This one time, just one fucking time. For once, it was my job to put her back together. Just once, and I couldn't do it. She always keeps everything together. The amount of times she's put my well-being ahead of her own is... worrying to some people. I think it's made me weak. I think I was so used to her always keeping everything together that when she wasn't able to and it was my turn, I just didn't know how to do it.

She fell apart, and when she asked me to pick her back up, I couldn't. 

Goddamn it. It's like this diary became my solitary. Why am I thinking about it? It's not like I've been continuously thinking about her day in and day out. So why today?

Oh, crap. I'd just checked the calendar. It's her birthday tomorrow.