Dear Skeleton,
Well, I'm home. The semester's over. I'm lying in bed...remembering all the nights I lay here talking to you. It'll be weird, being here for so long, not talking to you. It's like it's putting me back in withdrawal. It's like I've always said: knowing isn't the same as feeling. I know I don't want anything to do with you, but I still feel that pull. I wonder how you feel, or how knowing how I feel would make you feel. Of course I wish you still cared. I'd probably be able to resist, again, but who knows? Maybe it would make me feel better. That's a lie. Well, a hope. Heh. I know it would make things harder. I'm rambling. I wonder when - if - I'll ever be able to talk to you again like you're a person, not...well, this terrible, terrible thing. Something tells me no...
It's been over three months. I'm ready to love again, but have I stopped loving you?
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Skeleton Diary
This is the residence of my thoughts, memories, and figurative as well as literal and dreams. Its primarily use is a catharsis for my latest abusive relationship known as the skeleton.
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