h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

So my last journal entry was a bundle of laughs, huh? I spose it's just my way of getting stuff off my chest. It's not like anyone really reads this, anyway.

Recently life has been... the same as ever. And yet new and different, as is it's habit. New emotions, ones I haven't experienced before. I thought I'd felt all that I could have done, but no, something new now. I don't even know what to call it.

It's like there's a whole ocean above my head, held there just by a sheet of glass. I can see the dark swirling waters, but they don't touch me. It blocks out the sun, it's so thick and ominous. At the same time, that water is in my heart. My heart is flooded with the ice cold water, struggling to pump against the flow, and the water is creeping round my body, stopping the blood reaching where it should.

Every day, it's like, "one more thing, one more thing and the glass will break." But it hasn't yet. More water goes into this great grey tank, but the glass holds firm. It's a waiting game to guess which drop will be the final drop.

I suppose this metaphorical tank is just my head. It's so full of stuff right now: stuff too complex and stupid to go into. But some days I just can't decide of the next thing I'll do is throw up or break down. Of course, I do neither. I've never been able to do either readily. If I feel sick, I'll feel sick but not be sick. And the number of times I should have cried but haven't are countless. Stiff fecking upper lip.

18 months. 18 months is all it takes then I'll be out of this place. That simulataneously excites and scares me. I'll meet new people, go to new places, have a new life. But thinking about what I'll leave behind scares me to death. This all sounds terribly melodramatic, but there's a man I'll have to leave behind. A man who will never know what I felt or feel for him. He hasn't got a clue, and he's not likely to. I'd rather leave right now than to see his face when he found out.

Or would I? In exactly the opposite way, I want so much to see his face if he knew. At least then I would know where I stood. At least then I could say all the words that burn beneath my skin.


I think I'll go to bed now.

If anyone's out there, just ignore this. I'm a natural over-dramatist. But telling the unseen god of cyberspace makes me feel more normal.