And your listening to an old song connected to newer songs on youtube. And you feel nostalgic and sentimental. And that stupid feeling that you've been running from catches up with you. And your alone in the house talking to yourself and no one can hear you but the walls and your little dog.

And nothing can make you feel more elated and more like shit than memories. The ones that pull you to places that you've forgotten.

And after all this time. I've forgotten. All this time, after six years I've forgotten so much from the beginning. And now at the end, flashes of how it began keep flooding back.

And minuscule memories that should mean nothing have more meaning that you remember feeling when that memory was created. And now, not only is your mind playing tricks on you ... so is your heart.

Because whenever you feel like your healing an invisible string pulls you back to the place that makes you hate life. Or makes you almost forget that life is great.

And I'm trying to remember to be happy. Because damn am I good at will power. And making things happen with my wishes, and thoughts, and my mind.

cogito, ergo sum.

And I'm just typing because I'm trying to get away from these thoughts. Because writing is therapeutic. I can just type them out here and be done with it. Like in Harry Potter with the basin full of water that you put silvery memories in.

Just like that.

And that's what writing is from me.

Take away these putrid silvery thoughts that create toxins in my mind and my heart.

And I just want to be normal again.

And when I reread my diary, for the entire time that Scott and I were wonderful for the past 3 years without a juvenile real breakup I only thought about succeeding, ambition, and becoming a better me.

And I took advantage of him. I took advantage of his love. I thought to myself... I already found my soul mate time to find myself. Time to get myself where I want. Time to achieve success.

Time to be who I am destined to be.

And along the way. Along the way of achieving greatness and a 3.5 this past semester. I let my relationship die. I let my relationship die. I let my relationship die.

And now I feel like dying.

And I'm ODing on fish oil vitamins because there's no salmon in the house to stabilize my mood. And, it's like a pill that I feel safe taking because it's just a vitamin.

And, if you want to know the truth. I just want him back. Want him back. Want him back.

And I just need him. Because he was the one. He was it for me. And I hate to say it because I'm only 21 and what the fuck do I know about love?

It's just that I've been with for six years and he's all that I know about love. And he's all that I want to know.

Because he was my best friend outside of my family. And he was everything that I wanted in a man. And I'm trying to be okay with all these shitty feelings.

And none of this sounds pretty, but that's okay. Because therapy doesn't have to be pretty. It just has to be calming.

And it's calming me down.

And I need to do some homework. And I need to be me again. I need to be me again. I need to be me again.

And these are all the thoughts I'm thinking right now without erasing anything. And I'm repeating happiness under my breath. Because that's as far as I can go. That's as good as it's going to get.

Get out of my head.
Get out of my head.
Get out of my head.

And I'm just going to pray now. Pray that things will be okay. And get another omega-3-fatty acid vitamin and make myself feel better.

Fuck.

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