The Muses (muse_journal) wrote,
The Muses
muse_journal

  • Mood:

Ice

We know Ice has gone crazy when she writes here.

Fuck.

I miss him, okay? I'm a bitch, I'm a terrible person, I don't go after him and then I miss him like crazy but act like I could have nothing better to do than forget him. I know how I work. I'm WELL aware I'm an idiot and a brat. But...I didn't realize I missed him this damn much. He called and talked to them, I know it. I never expected him to talk to me if he called, so I don't care. But...he called. He's out there, and he's calling instead of coming back. I was holding onto that. I thought it was just an explosion of our spats before, he disappears into one room and me into the other and then we come out and find each other.

I guess I should have figured that when he grabbed the rest of his clothed I was pretty much fucked...

But his guitar was here....and so I let him do his thing. And I was a bitch about it. I growled and hissed and got dressed up and smashed more than once in that first week. Moved my stuff back to my old room and refused to go into his. I tugged on a mask that I was so deliciously familiar that I stuck to that. It was fine. He was gone, it was over, I didn't need anything from him.

And now...shit. I should have gone after him. I know I should have. We both needed time to chill out, but he was there. Just a mile's walk. I could have taken 7 minutes of my day to run there and talk to him...then he disappeared. And like I said...I let him do that. I was a brat, but I let him. And he's been gone for three weeks. I missed his fucking birthday. In August we'll have been this screwed up pair for a year. We can't make it a year. I can't wear the ring because in my first week mode I figured it was all over and I had nothing to worry or care about. Now I just am afraid that's really what it was. And it would be mostly my fault, because I didn't go after him.

Not entirely my fault, because the bastard was the one that left in the first place.

I want to smash in walls and hurt people, or get lost in someone and let out all my frustration in ways that may hurt but only at first. I can't do the latter, and the former usually gets me in some sort of trouble, and I don't feel like dealing with arguing over whether I have to pay for the broken window again.

My time is running out...I thought I had forever to decide but no. This is half a dozen years of my life sitting just beyond a border on my ex's couch, letting go of half a dozen years of his life. I want to keep that. But I don't want to find out if it's gone. But if I wait any longer it will be.

God fucking damnit.

I can't stand the thought of him without that guitar. It doesn't sound right when I play it after he hasn't. And that note always ends up in the strings. If he's sorry he should get his ass back here.

I want his ass back in this house. I want to bitch at him and rip him apart and slam him against a wall and taste every bit of him again. Feel what I felt last year. Let him know how much I would collpase without his irritatingly necessary prescence. Tell him that I kind of love him.

Fuck.
  • Post a new comment

    Error

    default userpic
  • 0 comments