Beautiful Crazy

“Please don’t say you love me/ those words touch me much to deeply/ they make my core tremble/ don’t think you realize the power you have over me…/ please don’t bring me flowers/ they only whisper the sweet things you’d say/ don’t try to understand me/ your hands already know too much any way…” --jewel

That’s what he called me. Beautiful crazy. I asked him if he meant beautifully crazy or crazy beautiful, and he said no, I am crazy beautiful but I’m beautiful crazy, not beautifully crazy. If anyone knows what the fuck he meant please let me know. I feel beautiful crazy today. I feel like screaming and laughing and crying all at the same time. I feel like I have 72 different voices in my head and they are all telling me six different things to do and they all sound right. “just go back to him/ just use him for sex/ just don’t talk to him at all/ just be friends/ just find someone new/ just steal lindseys men …” jk on that last one. I guess I really do poke at her a lot sorry linds.

Its my fault that I feel this way, I got bored yesterday and thought I could be strong enough for the both of us if we hung out together for a couple of hours maybe play golf or shop a little. Twelve hours, one exciting trip to the mountains, and some fabulous sex later I realized that I should probably take my own damn advice and avoid him like the plague, at least for a little while. I’m really not sure of my self and its all bittersweet and horrid when were together. In groups its ok but when its just the two of us, I cant do it, it is much to easy much to comfortable for me to pretend that everything is fine when it obviously isn’t.

So I am sitting here listening to hot fuss by the killers, which was my huge splurge for the week but turning out not to be what I wanted, and avoiding the sappy movie playing in the living room, because it is making me want to cry. Love actually… great title, but I cant even watch the Simpsons anymore without mixed emotions, the only thing I have watched the whole way through in the past few weeks is batman begins and it was the second time I have seen that. I don’t feel like doing any thing lately except for writing and painting and working so I don’t have to sort out all these things in my head, but that can’t be all bad I now have a gallery in my room and lots of poetry written down, and some of the shit that’s spewing out of my brush and my pen is actually quite good. I know it’s the worst possible way to go about things but really it is what I want for now.

Every time I get to a point where I am ok, where it seems like I might actually be able to make it through this, I trip up and I see him. Seeing him isn’t bad when its just friendly I can handle that. but then he tells me he loves me and I feel like shit cause I cant say it back without betraying myself. And I do love him, but I don’t know if I’m still in love with him, and if I am I don’t know if that will change anything. I need to be rid of him; I need to stop alternating between being angry at him and missing him. I am just getting angry at myself and wanting to do the cowards thing and run and run and run… I think this is how people become workaholics.

In other news I broke a nail, I need a hair cut and I want new shoes… god my life is interesting, que no?