12/13/98
Well, after all my whining about men not being able to at least come and see me when they break up with me, now i have to eat my words. i don’t have a satisfying explanation to offer. i can’t say i don’t love you, because, i do. you’re the first one i hear in my mind when i wake up. i don’t feel your arms around me and i hate it. i don’t know how long it’s going to take for that to stop. today is sunday. i wish it weren’t, because i feel like sunday was our time in a way. and i loved it.
i don’t know how to express to you how much you mean, how much i miss our intimacy. how much i miss waking up in your arms. god the sex was great, and promising to be more. but the intimacy, the doing nothing together, the pissing away the day and fuck productivity. i miss the way you walk. and your voice. and the way you call me “caitlin, my caitlin”. and the way you’d lie over me with your head on my stomach. i miss holding you.
but what i didn’t love was all the time i didn’t know how you felt, or why you were with me. i’m all sorts of strong and independent. but not when it comes down to just me. clearly i have self confidence issues to work out. clearly i have to stop judging myself as i think other people see me. as i guessed you would see me. but that’s hard when something about me is stopping you from throwing yourself in whole heartedly. i mean if i were that wonderful, wouldn’t you have just jumped in? i try to silence those ridiculous voices in my head, but by doing so, i notice they exist.
i read through my journal. i found these entries. the first one was written on the day you told me you were seeing other people. if you read it, i think it offers some kind of explanation in my own voice. if you don’t read it, know this
to love the time spent
but to hurt substantially
and i can’t do this
i know i’ll never find what we shared.