October 2nd, 2010

Out-Of-Body

I feel so, so far away. Carly told me that I did something, and my last entry supports that. But that wasn't me. I remember sitting in the lobby. I remember the elevator, how it felt like something got off and came to me in a moment of weakness. I don't even remember how I got home. She won't tell me. She probably doesn't trust me with that information--and to be fair I wouldn't either.

Ever since that one night with Jack, I've felt different. Heavier. I'm a lit fuse ready to go off at any moment and I can't understand why. Jack won't find the time to talk to me even when I find myself writhing in bed feeling like my own body wants to crawl out of itself through one of my erogenous zones. My pelvis aches, my bones hurt like a rodent's teeth that've grown too long for their own good. I don't know what's wrong with me. Maybe I'll find that I've melded with this laptop in the morning. Life imitates art even in ways we don't want. I miss Jack. I want him to be here with me. I don't want to be alone here.