me vs maradona vs elvis

i think some people don't honestly understand or will ever experience the sham of love. some people will just be in love, and they will stay in love, then they will fall out of love. it'll happen again and again, blahblah. okay, break ups are always bad, and surely they have got it right...to enjoy being with the person they love whilst they still love each other.

don't really feel like i've had that luxury tbh. when i think about what a sham our love was, i still think it was more vibrant and exciting than loads of other peoples. maybe that is sweepingly innacurate but i think i better believe it's true. last night i sat and thought about drinking myself to high heaven like i did two christmases ago, on my own, lying on the sofa, necking down southern comfort by the glass, hoping it would force me to sleep. amazing how much you need when you feel like ripping your heart out, makes sleep very patchy. but yeah, in the end i drank a ginger beer, smoked a cigarette and watched family guy in bed. felt like a much more measured approach to that sad kind of feeling. slept quite well as well, despite the dreams etc.

but i think it really is true, after the first time...it never really hurts as bad. it feels more numb, and i'm really glad i went through that hell a few years ago, in a weird way. literally being so self absorbed and miserable and abusive with whatever substance is an important grieving process. frankly, people who tell you to dry your eyes, grab a shower and go out and face the world are heartless cunts. they think they mean well, but they don't. holding back tears is like holding back a piss; you're a fucking pressure cooker. if you're gonna cry, goddamn do it, and do it where you want. i've cried in public so much it doesn't really phase me now, so maybe you could go practice it. it makes unexpected heartache a lot easier to deal with! you have to let air out of the tires.

i was pretty concerned about waking up today, but getting a perfectly timed letter through the mail and a txt off joe seeing if i was free tonight just kinda made it better. makes you realise you have your own life, and however much it feels like that person took half your life with them, they really didn't.

i've done all the crying, screaming, going round the house at four in the morning, facebook stalking, myspace stalking (retro), email arguments, rebounding off whoever, drinking to oblivion, packing my nose with MD, smoking weed like cigarettes, comfort eating (mashed potato is the answer), falling out with all my friends at one point or another, writing terribly fogged poetry and generally using Bright Eyes as some kind of guidance meditation tape.

so yeah, probably best i dry my eyes, get up and go outside....

x