There’s no real music video for this song, but it’s the lyrics I want you to pay attention to anyways.

They Weren’t There, by Missy Higgins

You breathed infinity into my world
And time was lost up in a cloud and in a whirl.
We dug a hole in the cool grey earth and lay there for the night.
Then you said, “wait for me we’ll fly the wind,
We’ll grow old and you’ll be stronger without him” but oh,
Now my world is at your feet. I was lost and I was found,
But I was alive and now I’ve drowned.
So now I will be waiting for the world to hear my song
So they can tell me I was wrong…

But they weren’t there beneath your stare,
And they weren’t stripped ’till they were bare of
Any bindings from the world outside that room.
And they weren’t taken by the hand
And led through fields of naked land
Where any pre-conceived ideas were blown away…
So I couldn’t say “no”.

You sighed and I was lost in you, weeks could’ve past for all I knew.
You were there blanket of the over-world and so I couldn’t say,
I wouldn’t say “no”. But they all said, “you’re too young to even know,
Just don’t let it grow and you’ll be stronger without him”
But oh, now, my world is at your feet. I was lost and I was found,
But I was alive and now I’ve drowned.
So now I will be waiting for the world to hear my song
So they can tell me I was wrong…

But they weren’t there beneath your stare,
And they weren’t stripped ’till they were bare
Of any bindings from the world outside that room.
And they weren’t taken by the hand and led through fields
Of naked land where any pre-conceived ideas were blown away…

But they weren’t there beneath your stare,
And they weren’t stripped ’till they were bare
Of any bindings from the world outside that room.
And they weren’t taken by the hand and led through fields
Of naked land where any pre-conceived ideas were blown away…
So I couldn’t say “no”.

Ok, I was going to post a video of Billy Joel’s “Only the Good Die Young” but I couldn’t find a video I really liked.

Oh well.

Sometimes my own emotions and reactions surprise me. Which really shouldn’t surprise me. It’s probably a good thing my Xacto knife is covered in plaster. And that I’m too lazy to dig for anything else suitable.

I’ve been fighting on and off (mostly on) with Jefferson for the past like 3 weeks I guess now. Which is so unlike us. I’ve been picking fights. Practically about the same thing.

I don’t even know anything anymore. And all this fighting is quite draining.

But I probably won’t be satisfied until I’m push him completely away.

And then who’s next after that?

Some days I wish I could push everyone away. Be rid of the relationships and friendships I feel like I’ve invested so much of myself into these past bunch of months. Sometimes I just feel suffocated.

And so vulnerable.

He was supposed to be my best friend. The one person I trusted would never hurt me or leave me.

Except for nearly our entire relationship I’ve tried all I can to make him walk away.

And how many times have I been hurt?

Maybe I’ve been fooling myself these past 6 months. Maybe I’m just not the people person I’ve been trying to be.

Last week was jam packed with socializing but I think I’ll be staying couped up these next couple of weeks. Feels safer.

Soap and water would clean plaster off, right? (Edit: Yep, comes right off. Note to self: don’t wear cream colored robe when blood’s involved.)

I only wish I knew how to calm and center myself without needing the comfort of someone else. Because I’ve pushed them all away and I’m alone now.

Have I ever mentioned how much I hate the night sometimes?

So, yeah. Still emo.

I definitely should have never gotten out of bed today. But I did. For Wendy. Consider it a mitzvah.

Concert was good. I enjoyed about 1/3 of it (maybe 1/2). Then I was emo again.

I’m not going to really write anything because I’m probably going to wind up saying shit I’ll regret in the morning. Even though I have all these nasty, emo thoughts in my head, I don’t actually want anyone to know them. For once. As I’m sure no one wants to hear me bitch about how much I hate myself anyways (because I could probably write 10 pages on that alone).

I’ll just post this recent secret from PostSecret that I relate with.

–

So I think I’ll go cry now or something. I won’t be cutting because I have a date Tuesday and that would just be icky.

*Bangs head on desk*

I’m upset.

2 major disappointments this week- missing out on things I was really looking forward to.

Weekend plans don’t look solid; again, something I was looking forward to.

And all I really want is to fucking be beat up.  But no one has the time for me.

Pass the doughnuts, please.  I’m going to go wallow in carbs.

Today is better than yesterday.

Well, I knew it couldn’t last forever- this happiness deal.  No, I’m not that lucky.

But I was hoping for more time.  2 months just wasn’t enough.

This time last week, I felt good.  I was happy.  A pure, brain chemistry good happy.

I felt it coming this time.  I could feel the shift- I walked around and things just felt…off.  My thoughts were fuzzier, it became harder for me to concentrate when talking to people, my thoughts started turning negative; all that fun stuff.

Well, now here I am and I feel like crap- I want to crawl in a hole and cry for days and never deal with another person ever again.

And I fucking hate it.  I’m fucking pissed that I have to deal with this and that I can’t just fix it.  I can’t just wave a wand, take a pill, or snap my fingers to make it better.  I wish I could just go back even just one week in time.

I don’t want to be so sensitive and emotional; so short-tempered; so negative.  I don’t want to be defeated and consumed by this yet again.  A person can only take so much.  I need for this to stop.coming.back.

Really, right now, I’m sitting in the cafeteria trying not to cry.

Yes, I’m going to keep plowing through life as I’ve been living it the past couple months- busy and super social, but it just won’t change the fact how I feel inside.  And I want to believe that if I at least continue the attitude of being angry with my depression and trying to somehow maintain some sort of resistance, I could achieve some sort of mind over matter trick and make it disappear.

Maybe if I visualize the production of seratonin and dopamine enough my body will just start making the right amount again.  *Sigh*

It’s a nice fantasy.

Ok, I’m going to go be all hermit like now and go cry somewhere.

I feel like crap.

I wish I were dead right about now.

I’m starting to think maybe I have PMDD because this is just pretty intense.

Comments are off because there’s nothing I want to hear from anyone.

I had this whole post I started earlier today on my break at work, but I really don’t feel like typing it.  Or putting it here.

My libido, my sex drive…it’s gone.

Also gone with it? My ability to even cum.

And you know the last place someone without a sex drive wants to be is an orgy.

But that’s exactly where I was last night. Oh it was so rotten. I really would have had a better time hanging out with everybody without the whole sex thing. And it was my birthday orgy! You think I didn’t want to have crazy good sex with all my friends? Because I did. I wanted to want to have sex. But in reality, being at that orgy was the last place I wanted to be.

I eventually ended up leaving for a bit. I ducked out and got some air. Chilled over at Barnes and Noble. I texted with Noelle, spilling my anxiety about the night to her, debating whether or not I should just go home.

After an hour I headed back, thinking by then someone might be wondering where I was.

Jefferson was in the kitchen as I walked through the door quietly.

“Hey, I was looking for you! I looked through all the piles and couldn’t find you! Where’d you go?”
“Air.” I mumbled, hanging my coat back up.
“Are you ok?”
I shrugged my shoulders. “I don’t feel well.”
“Did you drink too much?”

Finally legal, I bought myself a little bottle of Svedka to enjoy, but only had 1 drink because I’m such a light weight and felt the effects of it pretty quickly.

I shook my head and started to walk away, but he grabbed me.

“What’s wrong?”
“I just miss you…”
“I’m right here, sweetie,” he said kissing my cheek.

Maybe so, but he had people to tend to, girls to fuck, and cocks to blow.

He couldn’t stay by my side and be with me, which is really all I wanted. Especially after hardly seeing him or talking to him the past few months.

Someone called to him and he left me, squeezing my hand.

I went to the bathroom and changed my shirt, settled on the fact that I was just not going to have sex that night.

Well, it was certainly my intention to not have sex that night.

I chatted with the naked people in the room, munching on carrots and dodging questions about my fully dressed state. But as the nakedness and sex migrated into the living room, I sought out a quiet space for recourse.

The back room was empty and I curled up on the twin bed, exhausted from waking up so early, and exhausted from my apprehension about the night.

A stray man entered the room, I think I shook his hand earlier that night, but other than that I didn’t know him. He seemed to know me only as “birthday girl.”

Now, I know this is a major flaw of mine. I’m very, very aware of it. But “No,” “I don’t want to,” “I’m not in the mood,” is really just not in my vocabulary. It happened with Benjamin this summer, and it’s even happened with Jefferson, and you’d think I’ve learned my lesson even a little bit.

No.

Not at all.

I still find it easier to just go along with their advances, perhaps put up a few feeble protests, but ultimately keep my mouth shut until it’s over.

But this boy, this boy I didn’t know, came over. Mind you I’m a fully clothed girl by myself at an orgy trying to catch a little rest, so I’m not exactly sure what it was that said I was interested in sex.

But anyways.

He came over to me, to entice the birthday girl. Though I insisted I was quite tired, before I knew it my clothes were off and he was all over me.

I tried sending ESP waves to Jefferson for him to come look for me, but last I left him he was busy blowing the cute new boy Lily brought.

Whispering dirty things to me he went down on me and roughly fingered my (dry) pussy before having me suck his cock. He was soon on top of me, thrusting against me, saying nasty things that someone who doesn’t know me shouldn’t be saying. I at least had the sense to remind him to put on a condom before entered me.

I kept my eyes closed, wishing Jefferson would walk in and get me out of there.

I tensed up as this stranger grabbed my hair and put his hand around my throat. Not so tight I couldn’t breathe, but enough that I pushed his hand away before it got to that point.

It wasn’t long (but long enough) before Jefferson came in. I grabbed him as soon as I saw him and he came to my side instantly. The stranger relented and backed off slightly. I squeezed Jefferson and kissed him.

He pulled away and looked me in the eyes.

“Do you want to be doing this?”
I shook my head no.
“Come on, baby,” he said taking my hand.

I grabbed my shirt and followed him out to the hall.

“Sweetheart, you don’t have to do something you don’t want to do.”
“I know,” I said meekly.
“And what if I didn’t think to come looking for you?”

I shrugged my shoulders.

“If you need me, come get me.”
“But you were busy blowing that boy before.”
“You can still tap me on the shoulder.”
“I don’t want to be a party pooper,” I frowned.
“You’re not a party pooper, sweetie.”

He hugged me tightly and kissed me and we moved to the couch to cuddle for a bit.

The night wore on and it got further and further past my bedtime, but the party continued.

At one point I left Jefferson’s bedroom as he lay like a sultan surrounded by his harem and I decided to start cleaning up so we could stay in bed longer in the morning.

I gathered all the recycling and trash in the living room and kitchen. I was in the kitchen when he accosted me again, the stranger.

He had his pants in his hands like he was about to get dressed, but threw them down when he saw me.

I protested a little more heavily that I really had to clean up, but not without being roughly felt up and sucking his cock more. He even dared to suggest that I should go see him, that we had a connection. He kept asking, “You ok, baby?” as I shrugged him off.

Inching my way out of the kitchen, he finally started getting dressed.

I was so disgusted and so tired and just wanted to go to bed.

As people left, once Jefferson’s bed was empty, I climbed in and waited for him to come next.

My mind started processing the night’s events and a few tears fell down my cheeks.

Finally Jefferson came to bed and hugged me tight from behind. I squeezed his arm, glad he was finally there with me. I turned to face him, trying to get closer, but there’s just never a close enough with him.

I have more to say about the awfulness of my missing sex drive and such, but must be getting to sleep now (even though I slept all day).

I’m basically just waiting for the sting to go away.

Yesterday’s post was extremely hard to write and finish. I had to keep stopping because I kept crying.

Last night I was getting into my shower and noticed a bite mark from Tuesday night and, of course, broke down again.

And I know it’s going to get worse before it gets better.

Next week’s going to be hard not seeing him, and not because we’re busy.

And then the week after when the orgy comes and I think of all the fun I’m missing and who takes my place next to him at the end of the night.

Ugh, see there I go again with the tears. I didn’t know one person could cry this much.