fuck.

I'm tired, boys. Here's the thing that you should know before you come anywhere near me. As soon as you kiss me for hours and then leave saying we should just be friends and you're a mess because of your serious relationship that ended a few months ago still... or whatever your reasons are... I am going to sob for probably fifteen minutes the way I do every fucking time. Because I feel it as strongly as the first time every fucking time and I don't know how to turn that off. 

I know how to get over it. I know how to drink my way out of a bottle. I know how to tell myself it wasn't me - it was you. And maybe it actually was in this case. I know how to say it was just kissing. Everyone does that with people they don't even like. I know how to say you weren't even interested, really. I can say, you just wanted to fuck him because he looks like he would have a huge dick and you've never had sex with a guy who didn't have a pretty small one. I can say, you don't like him you don't like him you don't like him until the cows have come home and put themselves to bed. But those are cognitions - everyone's brains create cognitions to help them with the emotions they can't stop making.

I am okay now. All I feel is tired and drymouthed and lonely. And he is lonely too, he said so, which sucks. He shouldn't be lonely; he should be here.