I really should have known better than to go see a crazy movie today alone. Why do I realize every time I find a shred of happy feeling that it always fades within a few days? Do you think my breaks of happiness are getting longer? Perhaps they are. I felt great the last few days. Then today I got home and I grabbed the salt shaker. I clutched it for a long while, rolling it between my white knuckles, then finally I poured it all over my barely healed wound. Then I rubbed it in. Rubbed it raw again. Fuck him fuck him fuck him. He ruined my life. I hate it and I say it wasn't him and I know I definitely don't want him back. But I didn't even feel this bad before him. And now I started my class. I'm working two jobs. I haven't had a drink in 11 days. And I can't seem to care. I just want to cry. I wish I could cry but I'll be damned if I come into work on his birthday and see him with eyes puffy from crying myself to sleep. I brought this on myself. I looked. I knew I shouldn't but I did. I saw it. Saw it all. He's a fucking idiot for giving me up. I'm a fucking idiot for being mad at him for letting me go. I would have bent over backwards and beyond for him, and I did, and it ruined me. Now what does he have left. An ugly bitch, really ugly, with her own life who's 12 years older than me with three kids and a bunch of tattoes. Sickening. Petty. Who cares. The one thing I've craved my whole life drives me mad in terror of losing it. And then he said I never had it to begin with. It's no longer him. It's nothing. It's everything. I feel crazy and I don't know who to talk to anymore and I don't want to talk about it and I just want to get away forever and give up and live over again. That or watch tv till my brain rots out. Or drink myself into a hurricane. I ate the rest of my chocolate. I can't drink away the pain, and I'm about to tear apart my home in search of something else sweeter to bring on the sickness to dull the pain. I'll twist my ear and punch the wall and brand myself all over again just to stop feeling this bad. I think everyone has their own black swan. Everyone battles this black side of themselves when things fall apart. My legs are breaking backwards, my skin is prickling up, my inky wings are growing. I'm taking flight tonight.