What’s the point of wearing someone else’s skin?

Paulina just left. This night was what I needed. Sorting out my emotions, her emotions, our reasoning. Dreams are out there for both of us, and I know we are both capable of achieving anything. I know that because she tells me. And I know she speaks truth to me as I do to her.

I can’t even think of sleep. I wish I had someone to put me to sleep. I’m listening to my ‘untitled playlist 2’ iTunes playlist, which I’m scared of renaming to ‘The Emotionally Fucked Up Dean Mix’. What did I do? Why can’t you say it to me? I always leave myself in a position where I am lost. Like I can’t take control and scream, ‘What the fuck is going on!?’

I’ve been left out in the cold enough to realise how much I hate it. I’ve been in that emotionally abusive relationship where everything shuts down and communication dies. Just tell me. You know I hate silence. Please don’t make me worth nothing.

Paulina, Joseph and I were discussing the way relationships crumble. The way that people lie, and conceal themselves, their insecurities, their inhibitions, their paranoias. I want to show the one I love the true me. I want them to love me unconditionally with all my analities. My chattiness, my obsessions, my securities. My compulsions, my jealousy, my insecurities.

I don’t understand anything anymore. I just want to love him, and him to love me. Why does everything make something so very very simple, so complex, so dangerous, and so torturous? I don’t want the world from you, I just want you. The rest is nothing.

It’s 1:13am. I’m writing this in Word because the blog server is down. How appropriate.

I’ll just wait. My phone is on.


PunkOnAir : Natalie Imbruglia – When You’re Sleeping