Me: Much chagrin, but it's progress...

I hate being alone. I hate that this relationship didn't work out. But it was for the best.

Because I needed to face these demons. I needed to come to grips with my insecurities: feeling like an imposter, like the faggoty, black-hating, dumb-but-lucky, superficially confident, fiscally irresponsible, cross eyed punk that I am.

Now is my chance to learn to love it.

I laugh and ache when I think about how Luke had once said that I am strong. I'm not strong. I wasn't strong for the Reign of Calvin. I still am not as comfortable being out as I want to be. I still feel like I'm hated. And he insinuated that I could survive anything...I hang on by a string some days, literally dreading the idea of getting out of bed and trying to help others solve their problems. Apparentlyl I do a decent job; everyone keeps coming back.

But it only serves to make the feeling worse.

I think the only place where people are being strict is dance class. As much as I don't need to have something else on my plate, at least there, people are straightforward with me and tell me that I suck. Sure, it just feeds into my negative schema of myself, but when that's all you got, that's all ya got. :)

Right now, I want to enjoy this misery. Rejoice in the level of energy and commitment it takes to feel this bad. Swallow and soak in the sorrow and tears. Who knows when this time may ever come again...