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the first

i figure this is a good way to get me writing again. tonight i stayed home alone and it wasn't a big deal but a part of me likes to think it is. i called chris and told him that i wasn't entirely over him. i dont neccessarily think that's a bad thing, but i do however think it might be sort of a lie. what i really meant to say was, "i'm not over heroin," because i really still want to get fucked up sometimes. yes, with him. yes, with a boy. another boy. i'm not in love with anyone right now and i feel guilty and empty in a way because of it. i hate how i have these great words and ideas sometimes and they are just so fleeting. i forget everything good. is it because i smoked too much weed? i relapsed into another relationship and it scares me because this person is whole and solid and smart and together. that leaves me with nothing to fix and i dont know how to be the fixee, just the fixer. the mom to his dad. these stupid fucking roles i choose. he's a good, humble person. too good maybe. sometimes i want to go back to my other life. my teenage runaway life. i dare not say this out loud. i'm not angry right now and i'm not sad, honestly. however a shot of dope would be so fucking nice. i have no pearls of wisdom today, just a stupid fucking diary.

2:55 a.m. - 2002-03-25

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history - mystery