Random ramblings.

I can't believe I'm still awake. I should be asleep, but I have a feeling I'm going to attempt to just stay up. I have to work, and I'll sleep through it if I fall asleep now.

But this makes me think. Being alone all night, when it's quiet, leaves nothing BUT time to think.

I was thinking about that night 4 1/2 years ago. The one that changed my life. When I was raped. That sounds so damn dramatic.

But it's shaped me. A lot.

I'm still afraid of knives. I suppose when you're strapped down and have a knife to your throat, that'll happen.

I still respond to certain words in a negative fashion. "Baby girl" is one of the most insulting things that a person could call me. "Cunt" is one of the most horrifying words I can imagine, which sucks- I actually really like the word.

Clocks make me angry. Especially at 11:30 pm.

I don't know. I get angry about it, and then I don't care, and then I want to cry. It's unfair and it hurts. But I'm growing...dare I say...cynical about it.

I'm just bitter.


Ugh, I don't even know where I'm going with this.



I saw Rob tonight. He came into my workplace. I shook for five minutes after he left. God, I miss our sex. We went for a late night drive last week. He texted me out of the blue, and picked me up from work. It was reeeeeeeally awkward for the first half hour- I didn't say much of anything, despite his attempts. He told me stories that had almost no point, like he was talking to fill the space or try to bring me back.

But it was finally okay when he made this announcement:

"Shit! I know where we are."

I scrunched up my eyebrows and said, "So?"

"Well, how are we going to get lost if we know where we are?"

At that point, I burst into giggles and began yelling "TURN RIGHT! OKAY, NOW TURN LEFT!" randomly.

"How many times have we done this?" he asked me. "We always get lost, that's the POINT of doing this."

It felt like it would be okay.

We screamed Glassjaw lyrics at each other and made wisecracks for hours at a time.

I even fell asleep in his car.

It was comfortable. Like it used to be.

But I have a feeling that was it. I think that was his way of saying, "Shit, I ignored you for three months. I'll give you this one memory and call you again in May."

And that makes me sad. He was a good friend, for a while. He was a great lover, all the time. And, as much as he hated to admit it, he wasn't an asshole. He was just a very confused, self-conscious individual. And I adored him for pretending he wasn't.



/endrant.




I don't know why tonight's so weird. I'm scatterbrained.

And I haven't gotten laid since Friday. I'm getting that itch (and not the crab kind). My body is fidgeting. My mind is racing. I suddenly want to fuck myself with the phone or that marker or anything that I can get my hands on, all the while knowing I just want someone to touch me.

Ugh.