I am fighting these urges to call him minute by minute. God, I think this must be what detox feels like. I can't even make it a fucking hour without thinking of him. It is so cliche but I think I love him.
You're quite right. It is like detox. You do love him, but he doesn't love you. Oh, oh, it's so fucking easy for me to say that from over here on couch...well, i'm not on the couch, i'm on the field. And we're on the same team and we're getting our asses handed to us. We're being crushed and we keep on keepin' on.
There are actually many different scientific names for the 'disorder' we have. I call it 'knowing what love is and loving'. Most people don't have this disorder and therefore never love. They may live normal, happy lives, but they know something is missing.
I want to help you. I can't help you, but I truly want to. I can only type to you. Sorry. I truly am sorry and truly know EXACTLY how you feel.
Misery doesn't love company always.
Truth: I'm a sick bastard.
Reason: I would be willing to do drastic things for someone I've never spoken with and only conversed with on the freakin' internet.
Question: When you eat rice what do you put on it? Butter or gravy?
I think I am addicted to him... the more I think about it, it just feels like an addiction. And yes, we are being crushed. Why continue? I wish I knew.
And you typing to me helps, so thanks.
A sick bastard? Sick bastards are the best kind, didn't you know?
I wouldn't put butter or gravy on rice. But I would put soy sauce on it. Why?
I think I posted almost this exact entry recently. Or, I thought it at least. I promise, it will pass. And you will be left wondering what all of the fuss was about.
By the way, meaningless sex with strangers doesn't help take your mind off of it, it actually makes it worse. ;)
Comments 4
There are actually many different scientific names for the 'disorder' we have. I call it 'knowing what love is and loving'. Most people don't have this disorder and therefore never love. They may live normal, happy lives, but they know something is missing.
I want to help you. I can't help you, but I truly want to. I can only type to you. Sorry. I truly am sorry and truly know EXACTLY how you feel.
Misery doesn't love company always.
Truth: I'm a sick bastard.
Reason: I would be willing to do drastic things for someone I've never spoken with and only conversed with on the freakin' internet.
Question: When you eat rice what do you put on it? Butter or gravy?
I'd give you a hug if I could.
Jason
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And you typing to me helps, so thanks.
A sick bastard? Sick bastards are the best kind, didn't you know?
I wouldn't put butter or gravy on rice. But I would put soy sauce on it. Why?
Thanks for offering the hug.
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By the way, meaningless sex with strangers doesn't help take your mind off of it, it actually makes it worse. ;)
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Meaningless sex seems like the only kind I ever have.
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