I don't think I am doing so well right now. My stomach growls, but I don't wish to give it nutrition. My mind swarms, 'I could so easily just stop eating today, go back to the old way.' But I was sick then, and I know, and I know I must eat, and I know I will...eventually. I really, really, really just want to be alone, but tonight when I did a boy's makeup, my face inches from his, my hand curved gently about his neck, I had an overwhelming want for lips, for arms, for sighs, and embraces. Not his, though, someone else's. I have him back, and we are going slowly, and I like that, but I wish he would pursue more. Yet, he works now, he must always be tired. I mustn't be so demanding, and I want to be alone, right? I have been especially skiddish and PTSD-y. I don't like it. I hate yelping at the sound of me dropping my own pen. I just..I want to be safe, but I am scared of therapy. I read or think about PTSD and my stomach turns cold as if I swallowed some Icy Hot. It doesn't help my therapist keeps canceling on me, never making progress, only on hold, and this elevator music is wearing on my nerves. Maybe this is just some depression, but for some reason I seem to have tears in my eyes. I was merely thinking of hugging a friend and how I do the hugging. I don't think it's because people I know don't wish to hug me. I think it is because I have mainly male friends and they don't want to send the wrong message, which is always good. Where's Mon when I need him? Hah. He gives me the greatest hugs. He's nearly seven feet tall, and little ole' five two me sure does love hugging him. Tall people are the best to hug, I say. They just make you feel so safe, like the way the trees in the forest protect you. I'm going to go snuggle up to the stuffed lamb I have had since my first memory and my stuffed Lorax. Don't judge me, you'll need comfort badly enough someday you'll be begging to borrow them. ~no quote~

I fucking hate my computer class. It is supposed to be web page design, but it is more like 'morons scream and try to spar.' I basically use it as a study hall. I had no choice but to take it. I am in an awful mood. Lia really, really pissed me off. Our friend Lairy has really bad anxiety, to the point where she cries in the middle of class, so I talked to her about therapy. Lia immediately acted like there is absolutely nothing wrong with Lairy and even said she manages it just fine. Crying in class is just fine, right? Then she said to me, 'Not everyone is crazy like you.' and smiled. Fuck her. On a different note, I am feeling anger. This is a first in a long time. I'm not sure if that is good or not. I will talk to my therapist this arvo. I don't like it at all, but everyone keeps telling me it's normal and I should feel anger. Camden and I are back together. I am quite happy, I must admit. I am sending him something (but can't say what here, in case that sneak reads it.) I do hope he likes it. He insists he will since it is from me. He's sweet now that he is getting well. Sweet like he used to be, but not overdoing it. We are taking things slow, which I really like. Quote of the Day: ~“Love is something eternal; the aspect may change, but not the essence”~ --Vincent van Gogh

Snow is swirling outside of the bay window to my left. Iron & Wine is flowing through my speakers. Coffee steam is swirling, and we are talking. Oh, how I have missed you. When I was in the hospital I wrote you a letter. I never intended to send it, nor will I ever. I want to open fully already, but I must ration it out, I must not free fall. My depression and anxiety have been falling steadily, much like the snow outside, but talking to you makes it feel a little less painful. That has always been the case with you, and I truly hope it has been with you for me too, but I really do doubt that. I wanted to paint last night, but all I did was stare and think. I want to make something beautiful, but all of my beauty falls short, it seems. I am beginning to doubt the beauty in my hands again. I wish I could find away to translate my heart onto canvas. Quote of the Day: ~“A kiss may ruin a human life.”~ --Oscar Wilde