crying over spilt conditioner

why is this disease so destructive? why can't i sleep, eat, breathe, act normally? why does everything become so much harder?

i'm telling you, the worst is when your boyfriend runs his hand through your hair only to find a twisted handful of hair caught in between his fingers. dylan always asks me if i'm comfortable, if he's hurting me, if i'm breathing okay. the wreckage this disease leaves me with...twisted braids of free-falling orange strands, bruises the size of baseballs, and having to take a breather from the fireworks i see when he kisses me.


i combed through my hair tonight and wept as i looked at the hair on the floor around me. i feel like a cancer patient. i never realized how much meaning something as simple as hair holds.

i'm trying to convince myself that i'm just procrastinating

but it's so much more.
i'm positive that i've transitioned into the hypothyroid stage of radiation;
i black out almost every time i stand up, i sleep for unhealthy periods of time (i didn't get up until two this afternoon, after going to bed at 11:30), i'm freezing ALL the time, i cant remember things such as where the spoons go in the kitchen and which way is left not to mention school work, ive gained weight despite my insane workout regimen, and i pull out handfuls of hair anytime i touch it.


it is so hard for me to pay attention to the essay i have to write on lord of the flies. i sincerely feel like it would take me until midnight if i were to start right this second.

i'm drifting off to sleeeeeeeep.
ack.

hyper/hypothyroidism and the ocean that is life

my thyroid is going to kill me. rather, it was when i had one. and now apparently my lack of a thyroid is going to kill me. it's intolerably confusing. that's another thing: it messes with one's emotions and thought processes. i should be happy, and i just want to fall off the face of the planet for a few days. and that is creating a rift between dylan and me that i really don't want.

at first i thought i was hurt by him; it was strange because i don't exactly know why, but i felt like i can't possibly compare to his ex of four years. i felt that because he is so much more experienced than me, he would see me as a child. and for some reason, i could not bear to think of him seeing me that way. i have always had an inferiority complex with people i feel are too out of my league to compete with, especially those who are close to me. something just distanced me from him, maybe my final realization that he and his ex were closer than i feel that i can be to him, and i saw him not as my boyfriend but as someone completely unreachable. i worked out some things and realized that i need to focus on my self esteem and try to stay within the realm of reality for a while, but for a few seconds that thought terrified me.

---

if there's anything i've learned from what i have with dylan, it's that the world doesn't stop turning just because your head starts. sure, you're holding each other, but you don't stop moving. life won't pause for you; you have to roll with the punches and try to hold your head above water when your significant other gets taken under by a wave. and your sinuses burn and you can't see clearly and you wonder if you'll ever come back up, but even through all that, it's nice to know that the fingers in between yours are there for a reason.

sometimes

i really just want to delete this and start over.
again.


but i know i won't, not now at least.


so let's just cut to the chase:

i never really knew how awkward french kissing could be;
at first it was quite slobbery,
there were multiple teeth collisions, and
then, of course, there was the fact that
i honestly had no idea what to do with my tongue
until it was too late to turn back.


is this awkward to read?
if so, i honestly do apologize.


next point:

i want to get more honest with this and stop trying to phrase it correctly, or make it sound like i'm some professional author. because i'm not. i made this to document my feelings and simply for the joy of writing.

i want to be able to network, so people can read this and know where i stand without necessarily knowing who i am.
therefore, a new picture is in order.





so,
get ready.

it is so unfair

that i cant tell you how much i really love you.
i love you, but im not in love with you.
not yet.

when you were just my best friend, "i love you" became the departing words.
now that you're my boyfriend as well as my best friend, kisses aren't enough.
there is always a loss for words. and i have no idea what to do with it.


so, until we get there, until i am in love with you on top of just loving you:

i love you, so so much.
but i cant tell you.

what's this?

how is it that i feel your kiss on the top of my head as i curl up in bed?

why is every waking moment spent thinking of you?

what have i done that perfect nights like this have become a part of my life?

how could it be that you could truly be over her?

why do your hugs melt me down to the core?

what cologne do you use for it to still be swirling in and out of my thoughts even days later?

how can someone so amazing as you really, truly like me?

why do i suddenly find myself completely absorbed with how you see me?

how can i possibly deserve this?



i love you as a best friend
but i like you as so much more.

school starts tomorrow [or, more accurately, today]

BARFFFFF!



i would rather die, i think.

i just BARELY finished my english by midnight,
and im only on the first essay of five due after lunch.


why am i ALREADY back into this habit?!