Take a look inside

31. January 2019.

 There's nothing to say. There's nothing else to talk about.

I don't know what I'm talking about because I have mood swings. One minute I'm all smiley and the next minute I want to bite someone's head off. I hate those mood swings, you don't know when are they going to hit you or how are you going to feel next, you can't prepare. These hormones are hitting me so hard, I'm not sure what's going on. I know that feeling when I want to bite someone's head off, sometimes I feel like I want to kill someone but not literarily, that's what I feel right before my period. These mood swings might have to do with Will, it's a possibility. Today another trainer worked with us or should I say she worked out with him. He talked to me just for five minutes to tell me what to do, he was helping her or should I say he was doing her. Yes, I am jealous but also I felt ignored and neglected, was that really necessary? Fifteen minutes right before I was supposed to finish training, he gave me those pink boxing gloves. "Don't hit hard." Because of the mood swings or maybe because of the jealousy I was so angry that I had to hit hard. He didn't help me with the gloves so I was struggling to put them on. I was hitting light as told but later I felt anger towards him and as the anger was going up I was hitting harder and harder. I felt strong but also I felt like I'm not important. If I ever had imagined him as the bag I would never hurt him, I care about him too much even though he can get on my nerves I still care about him. I still can't say that I 'love' him. I'm not sure what love is or how it feels, this is all new to me. Maybe I don't love him, maybe I love the way he is, his beautiful blue eyes, the way he looks on the world, the way he smiles shyly, the kindness and the way he cares it's just... I feel warm in my chest. But when I do boxing, the bag represents our 'relationship' if you want to call it like that. It represents the untold words, untold truth. I feel better now. I was physically and emotionally exhausted, I couldn't fight it anymore so I took the gloves off. It felt so good without them. I was still angry and so I stood in a position, my bare hands were right in front of my face and so I started punching. It felt lighter without them, better. My anger, my emotions were in my hands, they are my strength. It was hard, it was exhausting, I can't describe the feeling. Yes, there was anger, and yes it was towards him and also towards me but there was more to it. When I went to change I looked at my hands, they were red and bloody...ish. I ripped my skin. It looks bad, not too bad but ok. I was glad they were like this, this is a scar of how I feel inside, my hands now are presenting how I feel inside. Ripped, vulnerable, in pain. I felt better but also I felt broken. I have real scars that show the broken me. I feel like he hasn't opened up to me fully, I feel like there's more, I know there's more but I can't force it if he doesn't want to open. He's still closed, he still has that wall around him but I have it too and that's on me and I know that. I want to open up to him it's just, I'm not sure if he wants to hear it if he's interested in my life as much as I am interested in his. I want to hear him, I want to learn more about him, his brother, his family but maybe that's not mine to know, maybe I'm not that important to him for him to share that part of his life with me. I want to be something more with him, I want to go to the next level with him, I want to be his friend but I'm not sure if he wants me as a friend because he doesn't act like one. If he does want me then he needs to let me in and if he needs time to do so then I will wait. I thought we had good communication but then this happens. I left the gym and there was Will, outside smoking. I asked him if we can have a massage tomorrow and as he started to think about it he made face expression which was weird and so he said that it was ok and to come earlier so we could do that first. I see that his brain is overwhelmed and on the way home I was thinking about how he was uncomfortable to say no or to postpone it... I couldn't think about anything else so after a couple of hours thinking about it, I texted him. "If you can't do that massage tomorrow it's ok, we can do it another time, really, it's not a big deal." "Sure, tomorrow I'm so full" "Next time just say it, it's really not a problem. Are we still on for tomorrow at noon?" "Of course."