it's 4:29 a.m., on 2001-05-18 - shame.

~

I'm sitting here, and do you know who I'm thinking about?

I'm thinking about Mike.

Now, it's easy to forget about mike in my life. He didn't-- I didn't, let's be fair-- leave an impact. That is, my reaction to him didn't leave an impact. On me.

I'm an emotional swinger. I needed someone. He was easily available.

The only thing I think I keep from knowing him-- I'm sure there's more, but this is what's concerning me right now-- is an intense lingering sense of guilt. I might never, ever talk to him again, but the guilt that he left in his wake, that's real.

There's a certain kind of music chord, that leaves a pinprick ache in your belly. --yes, Lynx, bloated belly. But, a needle-point kind of aching. Melancholy, and wincing. That's what I have.

Seeing Al in two weeks is a terrifying thought. I have, wincing.

I fully recognise the extent of my guilt. I plead guilty.

I feel a deep-ceded ancient history lesson about to be taught.

~*~

I have shame, too.

But, I'm not sure whether I'm sorry. Is it possible to have shame without feeling sorry? Is it possible to have guilt without being regretful for the things you've done?

Of course, I regret. I probably regret most of my mythology. Perhaps that's what attracted me to Paris more after what happened. I knew I couldn't hurt him-- he'd hurt me instead.

And we all know what a masochistic bitch I can be, don't we. There wouldn't be acoustic Radiohead on, the kind that hurts, otherwise.

There's this, thing, about this journal. Sometimes I forget that people other than River and Sass, sometimes, and claire might be reading it. Sometimes I forget the audience, something a good exhibitionist wouldn't do.

I am very young, today.

~

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what would sith be nostalgic about anyway - November 24, 2015
moving truck dilemma - October 28, 2015
- - July 19, 2015
- - July 01, 2015
bruise - June 29, 2015

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