...time on my own...

I don't know how to express what I'm thinking, not really. I'm twisted and confused. And I hate it. And I feel like a hypocrite for this sick addiction to you. And that's what it is, too. An addiction to you. I miss you so much. There is this huge empty hole inside of me where you were. Not the twisted "oh god I'm in love with him I need him to complete me or my life will end". It has nothing to do with that. It's the quiet late-at-night, falling asleep as I drifted off something that I can't quite define. *That* is what I miss.

And I can't even explain it. Not even to myself can I explain it. But that great gaping hole is what it is that I'm missing so much, and what hurts so badly, and what it is that's been tearing me up since I sent you away.

And being alone, sending you away? Trying to protect myself from you walking away from me? It hasn't helped, not really. It hurts just as much to have sent you away as it would have if you'd been the one who had walked away. Doesn't that suck.

Meh. Time on my own hasn't shown me anything except that sometimes I'm not the brightest star in the sky.

It isn't as though I was saving myself for marriage because I'd made some stupid pledge. It isn't like I had an obligation to anyone or that I'm violating any special moral code but my own. But I'm addicted and I feel confused, but I don't generally *have* addictions to things. I've always been so proud of that. Because I never had a problem quitting things. I quit smoking without a backwards glance. Even when I used drugs in my misspent youth, I got bored, and walked away, it had no effect on me. But you? I'm addicted to you in a massive way. And that both frightens me, and makes me sad and confused, because it's unfamiliar and depressing.

OK. I'm going to stop writing this now, and go play silly online games to distract myself.

Goodnight internets.