its been a year.

a year since he appeared in my life again.
this is so fucking ridiculous that i even think about him. i'll admit he was in a dream the other night. a very vivid one. he was back working at the same place. he seemed like he was back in his "i hate my job state" and i felt as if i was a ghost in the dream and everyone but him saw me. the weirdest part is knowing that it all happened, it ACTUALLY happened. i  don't think of any of that often but when i do i most of the time am proud of the fact that i have grown from that experience. a year later it also marks the time when i thought life would be changed for real. so beautiful. all of it. the excitement and anticipation. my fucking god it eats me up to the core. the day he walked up to my door. i wish it wasn't real. i wish it was all made up.
it wasn't. it was all real. the weather. the hungoverness. the doorbell ringing. the smell of him. the feeling of his lips.
all of it.
real.

why must it eat me up?

things like this almost make me think about other parts of my life which don't feel real. like my family. all i solely have is my mother. that is one of the most depressing aspects of my life that i just keep inside until something bugs me and i bring it out.
i hate to say this but sometimes i think that if i were to go to bed and not wake up, maybe it wouldn't be such a bad thing. to have people know what it's like to not have me around and how significant i am, no matter how i am, who i am. i am in no way suicidal, but i have always had a sense that i won't be on this earth long.
mark. my. words.

if it happens, i'm sorry that i said that. sometimes you just know how your life is supposed to go, and well, that just may be how mine lays out.

i'm not sure what else to say. other than that i'm alone on a saturday night at 1 am drinking a god damn mgd 64 (not of my choice) and crying. thats just fucking wonderful.