Please don't bother reading this...

I'm getting depressed in this one. Please don't trouble yourself unless you really don't have anything to be doing. Then go ahead and kill a few minutes by listening to me angst at three or four am.
You are forewarned.

Starting on Saturday night/Sunday morning.
5 am - I finally drift off to sleep.
9 am - Mom tries to wake me up.
9:05 am - I decide I'm not going to church.
9:40 - Alex Miner shows up at my doorstep, annoys me awake, and kinaps me away to his house to feed me, erstwhile listening to me tick off why my morning has thus far utterly sucked.
12:40 or 1:00 pm - I come hope and fall back asleep, having only had four hours and my body only just deciding to realize that.
2:40 pm - Next door neighbors come over and I, thinking it's my cousins, wake up and discover I've wasted my time. So I just stay awake until my cousins come, play with my adorable relative Dillan, who is three, until 8 when they go home.
8:11 pm - I find out Sam forgot to come see me.
8:14 pm - I get genuinely and bizzarely, inexplicably upset about this fact.
8:40 pm - I fall back asleep for the third time today.
10:04 pm - I wake up, and read three texts from Sam, Alyse, and Mike. Sam says he loves me, Alyse says she got her mum's phone for the night, and Mike is angsting because he thinks I'm ignoring him. I answer Alyse and Mike in a preoccupied fashion.
11:15 pm - I fall back asleep after much tossing and turning.
2:43 am - I wake up again. This time I couldn't fall back asleep.

I looked over those texts. I told Mike I wasn't ignoring him. Then I didn't answer and fell back asleep. I was really short with Alyse and she said she would just leave me alone to sleep, so I feel really bad.
Worse of all I didn't tell Sam I loved him back when he texted me originally. I felt the worst about that. So I quickly remedied that fact, and made myself feel a little less sick inside.

And then I decided to show you what my day has been like. Kind of pointless in a weird, 'this is so totally Sunday' sort of way.

I really don't like being an emotional burden, but I haven't felt good since Saturday night, and when I say that, I mean, Saturday night found me sitting curled up on the shower floor trying to decide if I was upset enough to cry or not for hours.
I think I was really in there for about an hour and a half...
After I got out I just told myself, 'Ok, Nessa, no more being upset. Stop angsting about life's currently annoying situation."
That...didn't work. I tried to go to bed around 3:50. I didn't actually drift off until around 5, because I remember checking the clock around 4:30, and it usually takes a person about twenty minutes to actually fall asleep.
Then when I woke up Sunday morning, for no reason whatsoever, I felt totally awful. This feeling used to be fleeting, or it was since last Saturday when my world 'sploded. It's just been getting worse and more constant as the days proceed.
I knew I wasn't seeing Sam that day, which really just made it one whole hell of a lot worse to wake up; I miss seeing him all the time, and it's so unbelievably hard for me to adjust, I don't understand. I knew I wasn't seeing Alyse. Uuber sucky first two thoughts to have when you wake up. No boyfriend, no best friend, my happy life schedule just fucked itself.
So I rolled over, curled into at least four pillows (I like keeping my life a little fluffy), and forced myself back into the resistant black of sleep.
At least that was my intention until my phone went off with the opening chords of 'Jesus Christ' by Brand New. (Good song, despite the name. Which has almost nothing to do with the song.)
My wonderful friend Alex Miner, unerringly Asian in his unpredictable ways, had shown up on my front doorstep under the pretense of waking me.
Truth be told, he's still in love with me.

Pause in the extremely boring story line. Alex and I have been friends for four years. He has been in love with me for about three of those, until I finally just paper shredded his heart when I picked his best friend Mike as my next tasty bit of dating candy. (What the fuck is with that analogy...God I'm weird..)
Very long and dramatic story short; He tried to run away, I effectively stopped him and froze off all my extremities off in the process, and he has, ever since then, kept any feelings for me totally locked away, except for when he hugs me.
We are talking like these four minute, rib-health endangering hugs.

Another thing about me and Alex. We go through phases. We won't talk hardly at all for months. Then, randomly, he will call me, guilt trip me about not talking to him, and three weeks later we don't go a day without seeing one another or talking on the phone. Then stuff gets out of hand, and we stop talking again.
When I say out of hand, I mean that I deem in necessary to distance myself from him because he starts getting pulled into me again.
I once tried to make him explain why he, and Mike also, don't ever really seem like they are going to get over me. He said it's because I'm not like other girls. I'm different.
For any female that's like the most awful answer ever, because once you hear it, you are just dying to grill whatever guy is unlucky enough to have said that for all the insignificant details on just what exactly makes you so different.

Resume boring story line.
So, now that we have established that Alex and are currently on the escalating stage of our relationship, I can continue.
He came over, spammed the hell out of my doorbell, and when I answered, all but picked me up off the ground and carried me to his car. He said he was going to feed me, because I don't eat anymore.
Thus we see, I end up at his house for the next couple hours.
A very weird next couple of hours.

Anyway...

I really don't know why I'm telling you this. I'm sorry....

I don't want to relate the rest of my day to you, because it gets even more uninteresting than it already has. This has got to be some of my worst writing ever. I guess I'm blogging because I'm lonely, and sick and upset, and just don't know what I'm doing.

That was the theme for my Saturday night/Sunday morning sojourn in the shower.
"Who am I? What have I become? Why can I not be as happy as I was? Am I who I wanted to be?"
No, I'm not who I wanted to be. I don't know who I am. I have become someone that I don't recognize, someone I put clothes on, someone I do make up for, someone I don't see as me. This depersonalization has, funnily enough, happened over the past week.

Story time: Remember the 'Repo' incident? That movie Sam really liked that I thought was disgusting? Well, quick run back to that. Sam said that he didn't realize just how sick that movie was until he turned it off and thought about it.
End story.

I think that is what has happened with my relationship with Sam. It has, since last Saturday, taken a very different turn. I haven't seen him even a fraction of the time that I am used to seeing him, and with all that spare time slipping through my hands like sand, I have snatched a couple grains out of the stream to spend my time thinking with.
Like Repo, I didn't stop to think about me and Sam until I pretty much had no other choice.
And then my goddamn brain went off asking me "Were you really happy?" I answered, firmly, "Yes, these past six months have been the happiest I've ever had." Then it asked me again. "Were you really happy?" There was a connotation to that one.
It wasn't asking if I was happy. It was asking if what I was doing made me happy.

Yes, I was happy with Sam. Utterly and completely. I still am, in a discontent, I never see you anymore sort of way. But as that worthless letter so happily stated, the stuff I was doing wasn't so great.
Best part? I still find myself struggling to say I don't care. That I could go back to what I was doing and go back to being as happy as I was. I want to believe that so bad. But for the life of me, I cannot say if it is true or not.

I miss him. I miss him terribly. And I think I would give whatever necessary to put everything right back where it used to be. But my damnably logical brain keeps letting me know that no amount of crying and begging and wishing and wanting will make that happen.
So now I'm left with these puzzle pieces of the relationship I had with him. And puzzle pieces they are. At the top they all join together and form a wonderful, happy, blissful picture. Yet, look down at the bottom of my picture.
There are gaps, and missing pieces, the picture fades.

I just....I have no idea.
I just. I just nothing.

I'm tired of waiting. I'm tired of trying to be determined and optomistic for the future. I think I'm going to do some utterly selfish wallowing-in-my-own-self-pity.

And God knows I've got the time to do it.
Apoligies.
I did warn you not to read this.
All my love, waved vacantly in your direction.
-Nessa-