I need to blab; I know this is so freaking random and I know I should feel really bad for abandoning my blog until I'm about to burst and need a place to pour out my amplituding emotions; but I don't care, I need to.

*bawls like a baby*

I don't care how childish this sounds; I need you here with me and I don't ever want you to leave. Stay, please, please stay. Then again I don't want you to feel trapped here when I know you could do so well in somewhere else. So I'm gonna stay strong, fix a smile on my face and wave you goodbye.

You're not like an assignment I loathe doing, I can't push this to the end of my mind and go: Ok, I don't wanna think about this anymore. Tell me how not to think about you. I've fallen into your trap and I can't pull myself out. Time is scary, time changes a lot. However much however hard we try, however sincerely we say 'I won't change', how can we be so sure? This is something I don't ever want to end. But the feeling, deep inside me, the feeling that I know one day I'd have to end it before you, is eating me up. I am really really tired of people leaving all the time; I don't do well with goodbyes. I hate people dying, I hate sending people off to the airport if I know I will not see them for a period of years. I hate departures, I hate the leave and the emptyness. I hate you, I hate you for letting me fall so deep into you. But also I am madly, unconditionally, truly head-over-heels in love with you, as I know you are with me. That is why I'd hate you for leaving, and I'd hate myself for leaving too.

JY
ineedya

Craaaaaaaaaaap.

" lie on the stone cold floor and mourn with me; let the cold of the tiles eat into your heart, instead of emotional coldness, feel it physically. can't stand it, too cold. pry your hands away, unstick your back from the still tiles. shower. need a shower. twist the lever to the left, let the burning hot water run though you. feel it burn your back. like knives, slicing and stabbing you. red, burned, raw. raw. peel away the guilt. burn it away, every inch of it - every inch of you. done. now, plaster on a fake smile and walk on. "

psychotic feelings creeps me out; i scare even me sometimes.

JY