Monthly Archives: March 2018

No pen for the Buffy journal, so spilling all of my 40 year old teen angst on here today.

I miss seeing you, being with you, holding you in my arms. I wish that I had time to see you. I wish that one trip wouldn’t bankrupt me financially and morally. I wish I could leave it all behind and just come and be with you. I wish I could break the chains of depression that I lock myself with and just talk to you. But wishes and dreams are just that, wishes and dreams. Ideals that just float in the air like clouds.

To slash my wrists and cut myself than cyber stalking the ex on Facebook and on the Internet Archive Wayback Machine…