100% Broken up - 100% Purely Single - God must kill me, please.

So, tonight I broke up with Michelle. If death were a vixen, she should visit me.

I am single, and tonight I got drunk. I went to a karaoke bar with motumbo. I sung Saturday night's alright for the fight by elton john, what you want by the spice girls, and then oops i did it again by britney spears.

I'm drunk as I post this, but am using it as a frame of reference. I fear I will never land a girl again now. I need to work out a lot. And def. ...well, you get the picture.

I'm still living at my current residence, and am motumbo's right now, and staying here the night. Things are bad, so whatever. Me and michelle don't hate each other, and are not angry at each other. We decided on four rules that should govern our breakup.

1) No parents getting involved. 2) No friends getting involved. 3) No siblings getting involved. 4) No doing something stupid to yourself.

She called me while I was at the bar and asked how I was doing. It was obviously better than her considering she was alone, and had her parents visit her. I was with friends who were getting me plowed, and living it it up. I feel like shit.

Today I cried for at least three hours, and quite frankly was amazed by how much a person could churn out tears. I still feel like crying now. No amount of booze in all the world could fix my pain. I never wanted to hurt her, and I never wanted to make her cry at all. I feel like I made a terrible mistake, but the big part of me states it was for the best. I have to go with that instinct. While I as in front of her I did not cry at all. I did not bother to weep. She cried, and cried. On the inside I felt like I should die for my crime. I took out the trash. When I got to the trash bin, I fell down and screamed. I started bawling so loud, and long that people asked me if I was in pain. I said yes. After I cried so fucking hard it hurt, I went inside. I did some menial labor for her, and joked about a mercy fuck. Nope. So, then I left. After I left, I called Motumbo. I immdiatley started crying. I cried all the way on the 45 min drive to his house. It took every ounce of courage out of me to not cry while I was driving. No fewer than three times I almost crashed because of the tears I wept. I would have deserverd that death though. It would be right. She was the last, and only good thing about me. The one redeeming thing that would have saw me through the darkness, and I knew I had to walk away from it.

So, now, I don't know what I'm going to do. Everyone is still awake here. Porn is playing. There are no tits to hug. There are no I love you's echoing back through a phone. There are no happy girls to go home to. The only thing left is a couch. A couch, a blanket, and cat hair to make my tears sting. I feel like dying right now so bad I can't even begin to think...I feel like there is no hope.

Running Away

This damned journal really is the only thing keeping me going right now. I don't know why I feel compelled to post, but it's making things hurt less.

I came back to the apartment this morning, and took a shower. I got out of the shower, and sat down. I just sat because I didn't know what else to do. I had this feeling stabbing me in my chest, and my mind was blazing like I had an aneurism. The same thought kept flooding my mind, and overwhelming fear drove it home. 'Run Away now, or you will never feel right' was what it said. It told me time after time to run. Just leave, and get out. To be gone from here.

Michelle came and sat down on the edge of the bed, then stood up. She stated that I should not be here, and should move out now b/c it would tax us both if we had to live for two weeks like this. I cannot agree more. I heard some furious roar in my head state the same. I still feel it now. Its screaming LEAVE NOW THIS IS NOT YOUR PLACE. RUN. She went to go out with her friend Hilary, and talk. I on the other hand am still here in this apartment. I told her I was leaving. I can't stay. I'm literally piss broke damn near. I have school tomorrow. I can't even breathe right.

I need to find a place to stay. I don't want to move back home. I'd be scraping the bottom of the barrel then. Today I need to find an apartment, and dissolve whatever liquid assets I can into real cash. I'll probably start with my sacred text. Half-price books might give me ten or twenty dollars. I figure that's better than nothing. I can't turn down any money at this point.

why now