Vacuum feeling

I keep feeling like I’m going to cry. You know that feeling in your chest, like there’s a vacuum and your chest will implode. It’s really like I’m just about to start crying, but then for some reason, I don’t. It’s like I’m all dried out. Like there are no more tears. I don’t think I’ve ever run out of tears before. I ran out of stomach fluid once when I puked like six times in four hours, but never tears, I’ve never run out of those. They’ve always been there for me before like a companion hidden away in my lower eyelids, ready to come out at any time, whether I liked it to or not. But not this time, not today. Just feeling that strange feeling in my chest, that vacuum feeling, my chest imploding any second. My heart can’t keep a steady beat, it’s like it’s almost stopping whenever I get that vacuum feeling and then when it goes away, my heart starts racing, as if to catch up.
I’ve been quite angry lately. It’s like every item around me is placed in order for me to use it as a weapon. Like that guitar, lying on the sofa, how many times haven’t I seen myself pick it up and smash it over someone’s head? And that book I’m holding in my hand, I was so fucking close at throwing it in someone’s face just an hour ago.
Come to think of it books can really be used as murder weapons. Just a couple of years ago a girl were smothered by her two uncles with a book. That’s fucking insane, I’d never do something like that with any of my domestic weapons. I just want to hurt people when I’m angry, I’d never kill them. But I’m good at controlling my emotions. When I feel like seriously injuring someone I just close and open my fists a couple of times, breathe in and out and count to ten. That usually takes away that impulsive urge to injure. Maybe they should teach that technique in school, maybe it could prevent one or two fistfights. They’d call it the Tiny dancer-technique and I’d receive the Nobel piece prize. Wouldn’t it be grand?

Nothing out of the ordinary happened today.

This was a dull day. Grey skies, not much going on at work, haven't seen anyone I know. Borring as hell. The peak was when Emelie jumped like gazelle, spilled coffee all over the place and screamed out her lungs, when a bee attacked her.

Something odd happened today

When I arrived back at the office after a walk with Joanie's dog, Tyke was lying on the couch outside the dressingroom, wich of course, I had to get into.
Hi, I said.
Hey, he said with a grin. Then he swiftly got up and blocked the door.
I told him that he was in my way and he responded; Yep, I'm quite aware of that.
Then he gave me a quick kiss on the lips and then he left. I was left dumb by the door. This was completly out of character for Tyke, he never even speaks to anyone if not necessary.
His kiss was soft and his mouth smelled like perfect springwater.

Crying in the rain with Brad

So there I was again. I was walking down the road all alone again. Crying. I had just reached the crossroad between East-village Passage and Water Avenue when Brad caught up with me. “Hey”, he said. “Are you alright?”
I explained to him that I was not. “The worlds a pretty fucked up place”, I said. “And I always seem to be in the middle.”
He asked me if it was my dad again, and I said yes. As we walked up the East-village Passage I started tearing up real good, even sobbing loudly and Brad put his arm ‘round me. I turned my face to him and said that he really must have a strange image of me. He really must see me as this big sobber.
See, the first time I met him I was crying because an, shall we say, “old friend” came to see me very much against my will. This old friend was the abusing ex-boyfriend of a friend of mine, so you can see that I was not too happy to see him again. Brad and I sat down on a sofa and I told him the story and cried like a baby.
And today was only the third time ever that I saw him so… Crying two out of three times must paint a pretty nice picture. I told him I don’t normally cry this often, especially not in public and he smiled to me and said he believed me. Don’t know if that was true though, but I can always hope. We took a walk up in the woods and talked some more about my family and my current situation with dad. It’s really hard to realise (and I told Brad this too) that even though I’ve grown up in this ideal little family; both parents present, two kids, nice house, good school, perfect grades, still I’ll be one of those people who say “I haven’t talked to my parents in a decade”. I really don’t want it to be like that, but right now it looks as if that’s how it’s going to be.
Brad and I sat down on some swings and talked some more when we saw that there was going to be rain. “Well, you’re not a witch are you?” I asked him and he gave me this puzzled look. “It’s not like you’re gonna melt ore anything, right?” He said that he didn’t believe so and I said that we should be alright then. Still we left the swings and started going back to the hotel that we both stay at. Pretty soon it started to drizzle. Brad kept his arm around me, which felt nice and we walked together in silence.
Funny thing is, I told Brad that the worst thing about this whole thing is that somehow I always end up feeling bad and I’m always painted out as the bad guy. A while ago I talked to my mother again on the phone and she told me that she thought me and dad fighting was ridiculous and that it was worst on her. I really wonder how it can be worst on her when I’m the one sitting alone crying in a lonely room, listening to Bryan Adams.

3

I have to get to work, but I wanted to write because I said I would. So I'll just write this.
I have lots I'd want to write, but there's really no time. I can just say this; I'm hung over.

2

I'm here. Will write tomorrow, I hope. No, come to think of it, I really won't. But the day after tomorrow.

1

This is my first time doing this. I'm not quite sure how to start. I'll do it tomorrow. Oh, that's just me in a nutshell. 'I'll do it tomorrow'. I always say that, yet I almost never mean it. Or, I do mean it, but I'm almost always concius of the fact that I wont do it tomorrow. But this time I mean it, I'll be back tomorrow.