i feel like i'm walking dead

-portland.-

i know you will never get this message, but nonetheless, i feel i should tell you.

i've never cheated on you

i've never used and not told you, and i haaven't used since you left

i'm not planning to, nor am i planning on killing me; i feel like i'm already dead, and what's the point if it's like that

you were my world, are my world. and i don't know what to do without you

that's why i've been so unforgiving

i don't know how i should feel

i don't know whether to be angry or to be sad or happy or what

i certainly don't feel free, and i doubt you are too, though i expect that's what you want

i love you

and i won't forget you, though i also imagine you will soon forget me as a mistake of your youth.

i don't forget much. i know you think i'm never paying attention and that i'm never listening, but i can only tell you that i listen more acutely than you can imagine

disagreement isn't not understanding.

i want you to be happy. and if that means without me nagging or hanging on, i understand. i understand anyway.

i doubt i will ever tell you

other than this

but i feel particularly nihilistic at the moment.

and i know i will live through this, but i don't know if i want to

and that, contrary to your belief, or mine, i'm not sure which, isn't true

12:05 AM

'oh you're so very precious you and i, and everything that you do makes me want to die. oh i just told the biggest lie.'

- elliot smith

he's dead

and i feel like i've already joined him

me and this bottle of johnnie walker, black label

good whiskey

i can't drink it though

i shaved

and i cut my hair.

and i hate the way i look

i'm growing hte beard back as soon as possible

you're right, i do look better with it

maybe i just want to hide

but i hate myself

i really do.

and i'm starting to think you hate me too.

but i won't let myself use that excuse because i know it isn't true. or at least i won't let myself believe it. i love you.