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Recently, I haven't been able to stop crying. I keep tearing up for no reason and then crying overboard for things that don't really mean all that much.

I just finished my second book for the research on the Circus. It was very dark but informative and full of useful information for this actual plot.

I want to lie in the grass and watch the moon above me. When I tear up like this, it is usually a sign that bad things are heading my way. I've been doing fairly well recently though the party this weekend left me with a bitter taste in my mouth. It got me thinking too much about how I lead my relationships down the path to destruction. How I start it wrong and give myself to just about anyone willing to give me attention. I run to people with my problems, hoping they will spark some life in me or that I can find some reason to be saved by being with them. Sometimes I actually think in those relationships that I can learn from them what living is about or what I could make with my life from who I am. Maybe if I had someone else love me I could learn to love myself in a way that was better for me.

Sad thing is, I actually fall for these people and them for me. My rose of love wilts and they stay fresh until I poison them with my dead spores. I cut the relationship the right way but it is still sad that it must be cut. If i hadn't started it the way I did, I wouldn't have grown those spores. If I had only taken better care of myself. I need to take better care of myself. I need to learn what I want and how I want it. I need to find out things. My life is still so ... new and unclaimed? My journey hasn't gone far and my feet are barely bruised. They are cracked and muddy but not blistered and not torn. They have not stepped on glass, only walked around the broken pieces of other people and their messes. I have been able to clean my feet and have not run from things so fast that I cannot look at the ground beneath me.

Oh. I should mention that I also had a scare when I was back home. It shook me to my core worse than the whole guy thing. I found a package with my name on it and couldn't think of anyone that would leave me a gift. Inside there was a necklace and note, typed on the computer. I couldn't think of who it was and kept thinking and thinking and thinking. Who would leave me this gift that said they were too proud to crawl back and it was promised next time we would have seen each other. Like a dumbass I think of Dev. My stupid little heart arches forward in this little hope and my body feels like crumbling. Dev? Could it really be Dev reaching out to me.

What a dumbass.

I think it couldn't be Teej but maybe? It wouldn't be Christy or Andrea. They wouldn't do this sort of thing. Christy's handwriting is different and Andrea has been in Australia all summer. I think and think. What if it is Dev? What ... what if she wants me back? So then I tell my mom and start to call Dev. Then it hits me like a ton of bricks as the dial tone beeps for Dev. Ring ring ring.

Ring ring ring. It's not Dev.

Ring ring ring. It was Kenny.

Ring ring ring. Kenny left me this gift.

Ring ring ring. Message starts playing about how she does not have a message machine. I want to vomit, I feel so nauseous. I just called Dev. She didn't want me at all. She didn't think of me. She didn't leave me anything. The gift I was so longingly staring at disgusts me. I hold onto it with my fingertips, moving it gingerly and far away from my body. It is trash. It is vile. It is something evil and I cannot look at it.

I called Dev.

I stuff the necklace and note back into the box and seal them up tightly, hiding the package back under the stack of papers on my desk. Please let me forget about this. Please let this dull ache and dark shame leave me. Please.