2001-06-02 :: 4:54 p.m.

He got mad at me last night for blowing out a candle (huh?) and at which point in my dating life did I put a stamp across my forehead that said "Whinybutts Apply Here" because it was the lamest discussion/non-argument I've ever had in my life with anyone, girls included.

And then I got so freaking depressed. Like, I kept asking myself, "Why don't you just walk out of here right now and go home?" And I couldn't. All my talk of being secure and having this great self-esteem was all bullshit at that point. Because I couldn't lift my ass off the chair and walk out. Because I was feeling lonely and I needed company. And that is so weak. And I know that it wasn't really his company I needed. It all just spiraled from there.

Looking at myself in his bathroom mirror with the lights dimmed to dull orange, I understood the incredible sadness and almost dirtiness there was in sticking his toothbrush in my mouth.

And pretending to hear what he's saying while I try to write all this down to get in on paper to post it here to let it out. Like I wasn't even there.

Every single day a new way of missing RSE is born.

I have to find my inner gutsy killergirl again. She's in there somewhere.

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