neverending story
2003-06-20 � 1:40 p.m.

Mood-depressed

These Arms of Mine-Joan Osborne

"It's the little things...there's nothing bigger, is there?" Vanilla Sky

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It's raining again, and now instead of the rain reminding me of him, everything is reminding me of him. Movies we watched together are playing on tv constantly, people are talking about books he used to talk to me about, guys are wearing the same Axe he wears, conversations we had are constantly playing in my mind whenever I have an idle moment...the scent of his skin is still on my clothes from Saturday...I can still smell him on the passenger seat of my car. I hate this. I don't know why this is happening right now. It's even worse than it was before...I mean, he's constantly on my mind...but I'm not yearning for him, if you know what I mean. It's like I'm being haunted by the ghost of our relationship passed and it's bugging the hell out of me.

I don't get dressed up anymore. I don't do my hair real nice or put on make up or wear any nice smelling lingering perfume...I'm not myself. I don't know this girl I am now and I really don't like this girl I am now...but I don't know how the bring back the girl I used to be. He took her with him when he left.

I would like to blame Cowboy for this slump, but it's not his fault really. Even though I turned my head to a lot of things, I knew the kind of man he was and I really knew what he needed, but if he wanted to pretend...then so could I. I just never imagined, even though I love him more than breathing, that I would be this messed up in the game if he ever left me. It's to the point where I don't want to function...I don't want to try to be pretty or witty or sexy for anyone else. I don't want anyone else. If I deal with any guy right about now, the only thing I will accomplish is screwing him up in the head. We have enough fucked up men in the world without me contributing more. So, I guess in a strange way, I am a super hero in diguise...the savior of men from the perils of this world...even though ironically I am the peril.

I am really starting to believe that if I can't make it with Cowboy, then I will never be able to make it with anyone. I will never see another man the way I see him...be connected to anyone like I'm connected to him...love anyone like I love him. I will never let another man get as close to me as I let him get. I let him in and he ran away screaming like a bitch in a horror movie.

Get-get-get-get-get-get...out-out-out-out-out-out.....

I don't even know why this is all bothering me now. Maybe it's because I am really starting to feel like I am losing him...both as a lover and a friend. He'll find some vapid, pretty, sex machine that will wait on him hand and foot and he will never even glance my way again. It will be like I never existed.

I am his Chimera.

I am his creation...one of his stories that he started and then abandoned half way through because the plot was becoming too convoluted and nonsensical. So instead he starts another project with almost the same story line and a new heroine and an even better ending that all will be satisfied with.

The Story Of Us was too unbelievable anyway...no one even likes fairy tales anymore...so why not write a story about a handsome lothario roaming the streets for love and adventure? Tons of women would want to read into that...even me.

I wonder if he will ever complete our story...and if so...will he kill off a character or give them a happily ever after?

Why the hell am I waiting for him to finish a story that he apparently never wanted to really write in the first place?

Everybody seemingly already knew how it was going to end by the second chapter any damn way...

everybody, that is, but me.

The suspense is killing me....

I can't wait for the next chapter to be submitted.