Only to wake up with an empty bed

I think that something is wrong with me. I can't shake this feeling, as you can tell by the fact that I have been blogging quite a bit recently. Ugh. Maybe it's the lack of prospects, the copious amounts of time I have to fill, the lull of a repetitive routine, the nights that stretch on forever. I know victory is in the mind and what not but I am truly faltering. Saturday nights in neon lights, Sundays in the cell. I don't think I can live like this much longer. Everything is as hollow as it should be. I don't mean to be a bitch but.. why are you so intimidated? Actions > words, my dear. Nope, not even that surprised. On the flip side, I really hope that I'm not detangling what's left of the people I tag along with (lol). Anyway. This weekend felt exactly like it did the other time, except that was decidedly much classier and much less dodgy. Sigh. Back to the crime scene and my god, it made me fucking sad. The most painful bit? When we collapsed outside after everything, sinking into each other and I remembered thinking I must be the luckiest girl tonight. Yup, I'm a loser. And now, I am merely a backseat friend in your life. This is so much fun!!!!!!!! no. I know it's just a place and it's just a memory, like how it's just one moment. Just one moment where I actually felt your absence. Ugh. Hopefully it and more importantly, you will soon come to mean something less one day. Hopefully.

When this memory fades,
I'm gonna make sure it's replaced