Hmph.

Why do I care so much?! I always feel the need to get angry at him, its that little ounce of control that I still have over him. That's all I have. Its all I have left to control. My own emotions, so I get mad at him. For having fun and laughing and drinking while I sit alone at home because I'm so lost in my own morality that I just runaway. The worst feeling is that I sit here alone, typing vague bleak thoughts. They bounce off my keyboard and beyond into the vast cyberspace world, where I know with all my heart and soul that he will never come across this. I've told him that I write, that it isn't good but it's from my heart and that maybe to someone its good, but he has yet to read anything I've spilled from my brain. Doesn't he know that I listen to HIS music everyday while I walk to class, wait for class, work-out, run, cry?! I feel so lame. I am, aren't I? I can't bare to tell him all of this though, because it means that once again I'm too dramatic and unreasonable. I just want him to care, but without me asking. I just wish he'd follow through with his promises. I ask way too much. I'm so demanding. I can only seem to control though, I'm sick, and twisted. I disgust myself. I wish he would just pick up those books he told me he'd read for me. I wish he'd stop drinking. I'm so terribly afraid of mistakes to be made. I literally wait for them to happen. I stress over the next fight, because I sense it on the horizon. I know its coming. I walk on egg shells. I'm too unstable for this relationship. And what's keeping the flame alive? A little intimacy here and there? Stubborn natures? I have no idea. I wish he'd understand that. I want...blek. Never mind. It doesn't even make sense. I want to start over, be free. I want to travel. I want him there. BUT I want a different version, and for that want I am a terrible person. I want to experience. And I want to do it passionately.