Fuck.

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.

I'm plagued by insomnia.

I can't stop thinking about Justin, or more specifically, that bite.

It's terrible. I feel so damned guilty, especially when I talk to Mike on the phone, or online. I feel really bad.

But I'm still going to tell him about it.

Nothing will happen.

If I keep telling myself that, nothing will happen.

Sometimes I think I should have taken Eli's advice when he told me to break it off cleanly. Let it be.

But I cared (and care) so much, that I can't and couldn't let that happen.

I would hurt myself and Mike so bad.

But still.

I miss him.

But on the other hand I want to go phone Justin, even if it is just to yell 'HAIR PIE!' and hang up.

He'd laugh.

Fuck.

Fuck this. Fuck me.

I've. Got. To. Stop.

I've got to get some sleep; I've got to concentrate in class.

But it's so hard.

I keep thinking about those sharp teeth closing over my neck, and I get a shiver that flutters through my chest, downwards.

It's a nice feeling, but a very, very distracting one.

And I don't want it to be nice. I want Mike to be here, and to hold me and brush his fingers over my eyelids like he does when he's happy, and just be with me.

I miss that. I really, really miss that. And I'm sorely tempted to start it up with Justin.

But I won't. And I can't. Because I won't leave a man I've been with for almost two years, for one I met a little over two weeks ago.

That's stupid.

And highly illogical, Captain.

.

Rosie.

Before&After