alone, staring over the ledge, trying my best not to forget
Wow. A long time since I even attempted to write in here. Since then...since then, my life is now in about six hundred tiiiiiiny little pieces. Along with my heart, which feels like it's been jumped and spat on, to be fair. I can't even get rid of this wedding ring. I need to. I should, I dunno, sell it. I could do with the money. But I doubt I'd want anyone else to be cursed like that.
Because that's how it feels right now. Cursed. Which is ridiculous, I know. And logically, maybe Bellatrix is right. Maybe it is better. But right now, logic isn't happening. Thinking is hardly happening, to be honest. Stringing thoughts together doesn't work as well as it should. I have a whole week's worth of work to catch up on, my son is crying constantly because he has teeth, or something, and I have to do all this divorce organising and...my head hurts and I want a drink.
But I'm not even going to, because I fucking well love him. And that's all I need. it's all I've really got. All I wanted was the woman back that I married. What the hell happened to her? What the fuck happened there?
I need to get over how much this hurts. Because Mathieu needs me, and sod everything else. Fuck it all, I don't want it. I hardly want to do anything else anyway. I certainly don't want to mark a week's worth of cover work, because nobody can amble through a discussion on Arithmancy, so hand-out-question-sheets it is. Which means I have a massive pile.
Thank fuck for Nick, I suppose. It's just nice to know someone's there for you. I want to be happy for everyone. Everyone's having kids and are in relationships that make them happy and I want to be happy for them, and I am, but...there's something about it that just makes me bitter.
I guess, life doesn't work out how you planned. Ignore the pain in your chest, or the headaches, or the fact that I'm about to fall asleep, but will be woken up, guaranteed, by Mathieu.
well, fuck you livia, I hope you're having fun with chris and his broken nose.
I hate Italian law. Just on principle, because it's doing my head in. There's nothing fundamentally wrong with it, I just hate it. Actually, there's a lot wrong with it in principle. But bleck.
Also, do you think caffine iv is remotely possible?
Oh, and how are you?
Ladies, come and get me, I'm single. Except not. And don't. But I'm working on it? Yeah, that's not funny, I know. My sense of humour hates me.
Now, to go back to marking and finding something for Mathieu to chew on. Do you think he can chew on your work? Doubt it. Even if some of you really won't want this back.
Maybe I'll add cigarettes, coffee and something for a headache to that list of things to go do.