Tried to sleep at 3am. Tossed. Turned. So much shit on my mind, so much anger inside. So much pain between my legs. It hurt to lie down. It hurt to sit up. It hurt to walk around.
Woke up. Watched Imagine Me and You. Good, but not as good as Loving Annabelle.
Slept at 6am when the world started to wake up and prepare for work and school. Another day of life. Another night of sleep.
Woke up at 9am because mom was screaming at me to wake up.
Why are you sleeping on the floor?!
Why is there so much blood on the floor?!
And I was so sleepy, but when I woke up and felt the sticky liquid between my legs I knew I was in trouble.
Bled all over the floor.
Bled all over my shorts.
Bled all over myself.
Tried to stand up and the fucking pain hit like a cannonball to my damn uterus.
Cleaned up.
Mom threw away my shorts. Sigh.
I feel like going out to get some fresh air, but I'm scared I might collapse or the pain would get so intense that I would feel like death.
I just really don't feel like socializing with anyone right now, but at the same time I wish someone would be there. Someone who'd understand. Someone with all the common sense in the world to know what to do, what to say, who knows what's right and what's wrong for me right now.
It almost feels like a lightyear away, remembering what love felt like. What a warm body felt like. What love and care felt like. What passion felt like. What romantic happiness felt like. The memories of everything just buzz around like fireflies.
It crushes my heart somehow, and I wish I could feel it all again.
I think of Shea and I wonder if she can recreate the moments all over again. If she can be just as magical as the last.
Hope for the best..... expect the worst. One of the best philosophies of life.
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