The 15th will be harder than the 14th

I purposely didn't message anyone on valentines day.

Well... I did reply back to one message. And I texted people back when they texted me. But I didn't send a valentines message.

Because I'm trying to realize that I'm not ready.


Dammit I want to be loved. I want to love. I want...
But I've been trying to teach myself for a while now that love isn't just about want. Its about fulfillment. Its adventure. Exploration. Its the comfort of gamaaminobutyricacid when you touch because your amygdala is quelled. The rush of dopamine when sunshine hits your pituitary gland. The oxytocin you share the oxygen you share the carbon dioxide you share the making-out you share.

I'm not sure what love is... maybe some of the CO2 I'm breathing is going to my brain and I'm trying to think with necrotic neurons.

I felt like all day today I was dying. Like I took too many blood thinners and I was a bruise away from bleeding out or a minute of holding my breath or locking my knees from fainting. My feet are currently asleep, but maybe that is because I'm sitting like a perched hermit. I'm in a house with 4 other people right now and I have total privacy, but I crave being alone.



I think that I want to be alone. But then I'm so confused because empty just doesn't feel right.