2003-06-09 - 2:26 a.m.
I walked around my neighborhood tonight in an attempt at finding answers to a slew of vaugly formed questions floating around my head. I didn't find anything. I did realise that my house doesn't feel like home. Not at all. I don't feel comfortable here. On the other hand, my neighborhood feels very homey. I like walking around, smelling the smells, and hearing the sounds like the crush of the dirt and rocks beneath my feet. There was a cute kitty cat in the street and I played with him for a while. Everyone has cats around here.
Things aren't getting easier. In fact, as more time washes away the firmiliarity of being with her, it becomes more apparent how difficult things actually are. I remember thinking tonight on my walk-about how I now comprehend the word 'devistated' in it's full naked ugliness. I've used the word before this happened, and I hear people use it all the time, but I feel like only now do I or could I even understand the gravity of having your life truely devistated. I still can't enjoy anything. I'm very tired of this. It's with disdain that I see each new day because I don't want to think these thoughts or feel these feelings anymore. I've been sentenced to a life of wanting something back that I can never have again, and there just doesn't seem like there's much I can do.
