2000-03-26 | 03:01:03

All I really want in life is to be happy. But apparently that is way too much to ask for. I cannot understand why I choose to put my faith in other people. I always do this. And it is so sad and pathetic. Because these other people do not give a shit about me. They merely see me as their toy, their entertainment, or their slave.

When will I ever learn.

I am in Argentina and instead of actually having the well deserved fun I was supposed to have I am having a shitty time. I think it's just because its not what I was expecting, but then again what is now a days. I am frustrated with people back in NYC also. I feel as if I am talking to certain people over email and they are not even listening to me. They are just kissing me off until they find a reason to need me in their lives. And it has always been this way. I do not understand why I keep up with these situations. I think it's because I have no guts. No balls of steel so to speak. If I was smart and brave I would walk away. Instead I linger because the moments of love I do recieve make the difference from my dreary days. And I can remember each and every one of them. They are guarded in my heart like a photo album. All memories neatly stored in transparent inserts. Except now a days I feel as if someone dropped some ink on those inserts and they are stained.

I tell him everything. I realize I shouldn't. Because everything I tell him is up to me. Not him. There are some days when I think I push him to hard and I expect him to tell me to fuck off. But he does'nt. He remains constant. I used to think that if I prodded him long enough he would get up and walk away. But the more I prod the more he prods me back. I don't think he realizes how his words can hurt me though. I play it off as some kind of ice princess. In my head his words don't hurt me. In my heart they smash around, creating lacerations that I think will never heal. There are times that I feel that he runs me into the ground. I adore him. I could not give him up if anyone asked me, but he hurts me as much as I love him.

Someone once told me that true friendships hurt just as much as they love. I don't know if that is true or not, but I am beginning to feel that it might just be. That in this friendship I lose just as much as I gain. Then I have to begin to wonder if it really is worth all of this. If his moments of light outweigh my dark ones. Its funny how he has no qualms on letting me know just what is not going down with him and what is. What rubs him the wrong way and what he can live with. But what seems even funnier now, in the Buenos Aires light, is that he has no problem letting me feel like shit. I don't know if he would change if he knew what his words did to me. If he knew I hide my tears from him because to show them to him would only let him see how weak I am. And I never want that. I have always wanted to be someone different. With this friendship there is no exception to that rule. But I wonder if he would stay if I was the changed person I dream to be.

I fear going back to NYC now. I fear the accusations I will see in his eyes. I fear the lack of compassion that I will see. Yes I am selfish. I want his comfort. Like I said he is the only constant I have now. If that makes me selfish then so be it. It hurts me though. Because he knows I am reaching. He knows how hard it is for me, but he makes it even harder. Why he does this I have no clue. But maybe this is the type of man he is. He will not offer comfort because maybe he thinks I do not deserve it. And as of late I don't know myself if I do. I just know that it would be nice to hear something good from him rather than the accusations I know are subliminal. But then again maybe that's too much to ask for from him, and from me.



p r e v i o u s // n e x t