I'm exhausted.

My feet smell foul. Like, really foul. But I can't be arsed to take a shower.

I wish I were normal. I wish my brain knew what it wanted and when it wanted it.

I hated that I dream about G.

I told Kelly about it when I woke up.

"Maybe you should talk to him," she said. "You psyche seems to have some unresolved issues."

No shit. But what do I say?

"Oh, hello. I've been dreaming about you once a week. I always wake up exhausted and sad."

"Oh, hello. I miss you so hard it makes my stomach flip flop."

"Oh, hello. I love you still. I don't even know if I know you anymore, but I still love you."

"Oh, hello. There is a rope attached to my heart that leads to you. I'm sure if I started walking, I could find you, no matter where I am."

What the fuck is that?

I can't talk to him anymore. I bet he doesn't even think of me anymore.

The idea makes me feel ill.

~

My teeth are furry.

I don't know whether I'm drunk or tired.

Both, I suspect.

My roommate is a dear and picked up beer with the bottle returns.

That's always the deal. We pile up the bottles, then he takes them back and buys beer, and we split it.

Good thing we have the same taste in beer.

~

Stupid G.

I miss his stupid face.

Sometimes when I can't stand it anymore, I google his name.

The first three images are always him, and I look at them, briefly.

Then I close the browser and so something else.

.

Rosie.

Before&After