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let me stare at you while we fight
2004-02-25 at 8:39 p.m. sometimes i hate how much i need writing. words make what is happening to me real. once it's here, it's a story to read. usually this comforts me, but tonight it just makes me feel like im on a stage, naked, with bright lights on me, and i can't see how many people are sitting in the audience. i deal with "things" much better now. i don't get as upset, and i don't miss a day worth of classes just to lie in bed, and i don't check my phone. but, it's all still unreal to me. i'm no longer asking myself how mitch of all people could do this to me. no, mostly i'm wondering how someone can be so cruel to another human being. i think about that a lot. because, sometimes, i'm fighting with someone and i look at them and i see that their shirt vibrates a little bit because their heart is beating so fast, and their eyes are a certain color, and their hands are doing one thing or another out of anger or hurt, and they're living and breathing. they're alive. and, i start to feel pretty awful about yelling. that makes me curious how you can yell at someone while they cry. that he doesn't see humans this way makes falling out of whatever with him that much easier. i want someone to fight with me and notice the color of my eyes, and the way my fists are balled, and know just what my lip does before i start crying.
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