Again & Again.

Hey.

It's me.

For the third time.

I know, what gives, right?

Well.

I'll rudely tell you to shut up right now, you all everybody,

Because I am running this blog.

And I need to say some things.

But if you can't handle me for a third time today go to this blog,

because it's awesome:solveproblemmarie.blogspot.com/2010/09/now.html

But if you're staying, for whatever reasons posses you to do so,

Let's carry on.

I have made myself sick.

As in, I have a runny nose, horrible cough

And I threw up. I actually puked.

And yes, I realized you probably didn't want to know that,

But please, see stanza one.

So I'm a horrible sight right now,

Puffy-eyed and red nosed

And shaky.

And I'm so close to crying again.

Yes.

Again.

For what, the third time now?

Because tonight.

Something inside of me broke.

It's like the "Don't touch that!" situation.

You've been told not to touch the pretty things.

But you do.

And they all break.

All of them.

Because it's the domino effect.

And I touched that pretty little illusion.

That beautiful and so lovely fantasy.

And it broke.

And the pieces rained down upon me

And cut me like knives.

Which has made me cry.

Something about the words

That were said

Completely broke me.

I don't even know what did it.

But somehow that slightly nauseous feeling I got every morning accumulated into this worrying myself into illness stage.

I can't go back on Monday.

Because I will cry.

It's like getting your heart broken from afar.

Like it sort of splintered into your ribcage.

And yes,

It's painful.

And yes,

I hate it.

I hate myself.

I hate him.

But I don't at all.

I blame him for me getting like this.

But it's not his fault at all.

It's all my own fault

And I don't know what to do.

I am broken.

He will never know.

Unless I suffer another breakdown right there in front of him.

Which can't happen.

Oh no, it cannot.

And I was so upset earlier that when a certain lovely friend called

I had to hang up.

Tell her I'd call her come morning.

Because I started to cry.

And I felt to sick.

I still do.

My stomach is so nauseous.

I'm afraid to go to sleep.

Because I know my dreams will be

Not dreams, but contorted nightmares.

And I have to pull myself together

And haul myself out of bed tomorrow morning,

And put on a shiny-happy face.

And get on with my life.

Because regardless of the fact that I was completely disillusioned and exposed,

Life goes on.

Things heal.

Hearts mend.

But I don't think my mending will be done by Monday.

And I will be utterly torn apart when I go to that institution on Monday.

I am terrified.

I just want to sleep until next June.

I wouldn't have to face anything that way.

But Monday's going to come.

And I'm going to have to muster all I've got

To hold on to to what composure I've got.

And the only reason I'm not bawling is because I have the best friends to ever exist.

I texted one

And suddenly.

The rest knew.

And they were there.

And didn't make fun of my ridiculous sob-story.

I love them.

They made me feel better.

And are continuing to do so

Right now.

Via Facebook chat.

I'm still feeling sick.

And the worst part is.

I still need him.

What the hell.

Need isn't the right word.

I don't have the right word.

It hasn't been invented.

And as it's midnight,

I'm not going to take the liberty of making one.

So we're sticking with need.

So Monday is going to be dreadful.

If the thought of him makes me actually sick.

What will seeing him do to me?

Sadly,

Yeah,

I kind of love you.

What the hell.

I hate myself for it.

Goodnight

Or morning,

Or whatever the hell it may happen to be right now.

It could be the Twilight Zone for all I'm aware of.