Things aren’t what they use to be. .

I have never felt as worried about waiting than I have been while waiting to see if this girl will give me any response to the letter I wrote her (pretty sure the last time I was this worried was getting my A-Level results back in 2005)

Is it paranoia that I am so anxious about not hearing anything, there could of been various reason to why she hasn’t replied:

  • She had work and left before the post was delivered
  • She didn’t have time to read it before she left for work
  • If she has a long day she won’t be back until after 6 pm or 8 pm
  • She went to the library and then work
  • It got lost in the post
  • She hates me

If it is in fact the last one, I am not entirely sure what I should do, mainly because I spent the majority of Monday composing and then writing that letter (I take a long time to compose letters and blog posts), considering I haven’t hand wrote that much since secondary school, I give myself a pat on the back, because two and a half pages and three crossings out is good in my book, especially since I write like a drunk spider.  I’m assuming that it might be the last one due to if she did have a long day in work she would have at least one break and therefore check her phone at least once.

I feel like I’m being held together by tape and glue, with each day that goes by I break just a bit more.  I can’t function, I’m a crying mess.  I’m spending my days holed up just to avoid human interaction because I just don’t want to cry, however I am left to dwell on my thoughts and actions from last week.  There is no winning I guess.  And I get to be left in my room with a fly that I’m not entirely sure is actually real or delusion, obviously if it is a delusion, it is doing a good job in making me crazy by flying round in front of me, if it is in fact not a delusion, it is doing a good job in making me think I am crazy.

I’m so going crazy, and it isn’t even the enjoyable kind of crazy, it is the tearing myself apart crazy.


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