Wednesday, January 2, 2008

Chatting with you

You are off to lunch and I feel sick. I keep dry heaving at my computer and have saliva running from my mouth. TMI I am sure. But now I feel like I am just writing for myself anyway.

This blindsided me. I was so fucking happy a few days ago. The future looked bright. I left my job, have been getting my life in order, and I felt connected to you. We had a dinner in which I spoke more frankly to one person than I had in memory about my parents and the way I was raised any my vulnerability and embarrassment about all of that.

I now feel pointless. I wish this didn't impact my desire to do anything else. I really want to go after today and start building my career. But, I can't even eat and I keep reflexively coughing. Fuck.

I love you. I wish we could just have a chance at that. I felt like we were on our way there just a couple of days ago.

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