Day Hundred and Ninety Four, Ninety Five AND Ninety Six

Hope is watering the plant and
I watch and wish that it'll grow.
When will I find out that the
seed is already dead in the soil?
I pull on that connection that is a
bridge across distance and time.
When will I find the other end
is only attached to the thin air?
You're standing there, I know,
with your arms wide open for me.
When will I realise that you're
only an illusion of my memories?

Day Hundred and Ninety Three

My back hurts. On the bright side, I think I may be getting somewhere with my study...

Day Hundred and Ninety Two

How on earth do I convey in my CV and cover letter that I'm not a FOB?! (apart from having impeccable grammar and spelling?)

Day Hundred and Ninety One

The bliss of exam induced panic.
asdfghjkl.
I am about to become one giant
pustle.
Ticking time bomb 'cause no one
knows when I'm gonna pop.

Day Hundred and Ninety

I feel that treatment has improved... possibly due to the conversation we had two weeks ago where I essentially told him that he wasn't the nicest person to me.
Doesn't matter. I get a cat. Pity I have to share it.

Day Hundred and Eighty Eight and Hundred and Eighty Nine

My fear was for nothing. Again, it was a nice conversation that lasted for more than three hours and this time, most of it was actual talking as opposed to listening and then commenting about the Backstreet Boys.
And yes, I believe I will be seeing him again.
But the biggest thing is always the goodnight. And the 'sleep well'. Which is mine, and mine alone.

Day Hundred and Eighty Seven

I gave you my heart to hold,
feel it beat and jump around.
Blood red and delicate strands;
you have my heartstrings now,
and like your puppet I dance.

Oh, oh, feel my heartbeat,
when you're holding me.
I gave you my heart to hold,
just don't let me down,
don't let me down.

The power is in your hands,
but please, don't hurt me.
Just a snowflake in your palm;
melt my heart in a breath,
watch my will evaporate.

Oh, oh, feel my heartbeat,
when you're holding me.
I gave you my heart to hold,
just don't let me down,
don't let me down.

Was I a fool to trust you,
mister serial heart collector?
With each beat, I slowly fade;
the blood which I gave you
runs now through your veins.

I wish I had paused to think
before giving it all to you.
It's too late,
too late to reconsider.
So

Oh, oh, feel my heartbeat,
when you're holding me.
I gave you my heart to hold,
just don't let me down.
Oh, please,
oh, oh.
Just don't let me down.

Day Hundred and Eighty Six

I didn't have to initiate the obligatory weekday contact. It was a nice change.

Day Hundred and Eighty Five

I don't want to let you go
oh
oh
oh.

Day Hundred and Eighty Four

It's cold. And wet. Where is the snow?

Day Hundred and Eighty Three

Stop saying that I'm sweet like candy,
'cause I'm not who you think I am.
You say that I'm a kind sort of a girl,
but darling, you don't know the truth.
You gotta realise that I'm only nice 'cause

There's a knife embedded deep within
and it connects my heart to yours.
So while it's there deep within the flesh,
it stops my soul from bleeding out.
I'd happily rip it out so I can stab you,
if only I could.

Master of manipulation, you smile so
'cause you think that knife is yours.
My last laugh, the last joke is on you.
I'm a masochist at the most, sweetheart,
the fight is yours, but the war is mine.

There's a knife embedded deep within
and it connects my heart to yours.
So while it's there deep within the flesh,
it stops my soul from bleeding out.
I'd happily rip it out so I can stab you,
if only I could.

One day I'll gather the strength to
break that connection between you and I.
And when that day finally arrives,
I'll finally be free of that bond to do
what I've wished to do for oh so long.

There's a knife embedded deep within
and it connects my heart to yours.
So while it's there deep within the flesh,
it stops my soul from bleeding out.
I'd happily rip it out so I can stab you,
if only I could.

But when I look myself in the mirror,
do I see a monster deep in the glass?
My heart starts to beat by itself
but yours -

There's a knife embedded deep within
and it connects my heart to yours.
So while it's there deep within the flesh,
it stops my soul from bleeding out.
Would I rip it out so I can stab you,
Would I do it?
Would I do it?

Day Hundred and Eighty Two

I just devoured a whole box of rice crackers. And now I feel fat.
Also, we had an interesting discussion last night. Genuine, though. Although it doesn't fill me up with a warm and fuzzy feeling, it suffices because
- he still feels like we're close
- he still wants whatever we are despite better judgement
- he misses me still

Day Hundred and Eighty and Hundred and Eighty One

This is the pathology of the heart:
At first, there is acute pain which seems to radiate.
Hope dies slowly and with that comes a cavity.
There is then invasion of doubt and loneliness
devouring their way through the dead tissue,
obliterating the memories of crimson times gone by.
Eventually there is personal growth and regeneration
and pale scar tissue fills the void that was once there,
but you know that while complete, the muscle
is never as strong as it used to be once upon a time.

Day Hundred and Seventy Nine

I can’t release my heart
‘cause it won’t let you go.
I’ve tried so hard to move
but I’m frozen in time,
stuck in the shadows of
what we used to be.

Day Hundred and Seventy Eight

You are a stone cold statue,
where is the heart that beats?
That messy room is a facade;
your mind is clean and sterile.
Paradox of nature and yet
I sit there and stare at the lion,
hoping that the stone will bend
into a smile.

Day Hundred and Seventy Seven

Le sigh. Siiiiiiigh. Waiting... but really, is it worth the wait?

Day Hundred and Seventy Six

I am sick. This is essentially all I care about right now. Oh, and whether or not I should pursue the dream that is medicine.

Day Hundred and Seventy Four AND Hundred and Seventh Five

Huh. I feel nothing at all.

Well, possibly because he's making an effort to stay in town so I can visit. Oh, and I possibly might get a five hour ride back into town.

So when I say nothing at all, I mean that I feel satisfied.

Day Hundred and Seventy Three

I don't get. I was perfectly fine. And now I'm just sad. For no reason whatsoever.

Day Hundred and Seventy Two

I feel that I am coming to the point of recovery. Mind you, this is because I haven't said a single word to him for four days. Funnily enough, I'm just so blase about it. It's like I don't particularly care. Of course it would be nice to hear from him... except I have a feeling that I only get talked to when he has a musical query.
It's like... life simply goes on. Mostly.
Sometimes I feel crap. I suppose that's bound to happen on some days. But at this present point in time, I would pick getting into medicine over having him for life.

I think that's a step forward.

Day Hundred and Seventy One

Ugh. Should I attempt to be around for one more week? Of course, I want to do it only because that increases my chances of seeing said person.
Pros:
- Happiness for a day or two
- I rather like being away from home... if I go back, it means I'm home for a month... ugh

Cons:
- I feel absolutely crap for a few days afterwards
- It screws my mind over
- I'm in the flat alone for a week = boredom and cooking for myself

Oh, and should I mention the fact that continuing said actions i.e. cuddling, means that I will have committed the same mistake for the THIRD time and have NOT learnt from my mistakes? i.e. heartbreak and misery... not to mention, I just like being spooned. The fact that he gives them is a bonus.

Day Hundred and Seventy

One day is okay.
Two days and I'm slightly more obsessed.
Day three?

Day Hundred and Sixty Nine

Decisions, decisions. To tell? Regardless, it makes no difference when you're simply friends.

In other news, I am now thoroughly confident that having no boyfriend is a positive effect on my marks.

Day Hundred and Sixty Eight

This is my heart
and it is like a fist.
It grasps on to
your sleeve as
you turn to leave.