* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

It's dark, it's soft with some pokey out bits some of which are sharp and hurt; it's like anyone else's head really.


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Thursday, August 12

Love and other stuff

Today was my last session with Brooke, tomorrow is her last day at Berkeley Mental Health, and I feel lost.

I can't stop thinking about wanting to love, completely and freely, but still be safe and have my own space. I wish I'd worked harder to find that place inside of me that would allow this while working with Brooke. I felt safe with her and now it's over. I wish there were arms around me to make my hurt warm, because hurting's bad, cold hurting's worse.

My stomach feels raw, as if I've been crying for hours; but I haven't cried. My head feels spinny and full of dumbness, like I haven't slept in days; and I haven't. Broken hearted again. (Maybe I should just write "...you know..." and you all will know that I've carelessly broken my own heart again.)

I want to cuddle and snuggle more than anything because not to is a cold hurting. I need to see my best friend, Theanna, spoon up, then talk until we make each other laugh so hard that we drool. I need some tactile unconditional love.


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