Farewell, Joseph.
Friday, 04/08/05 - 10:11 pm.

- Me: wait...can we, uh...remain friends? I mean, if I ran into you can I greet you, and stuff.
- Joseph: of course.
- Me: and can I...call you some time?
- Joseph: sure. We're friends, aren't we?

He got up and left, and I did the same seconds later. I saw him getting lost among the university crowd, and I said to myself, I can't believe he USED to be my boyfriend.

I should tell what happened last night. Last night, I cut my wrists. I cut on my chest, above the heart, to mask the heartache, so I wouldn't know what was really hurting, the muscle or the skin.

After I finished writing the entry, I sent a casual message to Joseph ("what up, homie?", and the like). He called me, and after a boring catching up on each other's day, he went rude on me again. I said I had a headache and called me a cryaby. "It's because of the fracture". Crybaby. He said that word for like three times, and he ended up saying "moron" when I said "but after falling on the ice I got up and kept on skying". He was so rancid, and I almost hung up on him.

After hanging up, and after giving it a lot of thought, I sent him another message: could you please stop the quasi-insults? apparently, you enjoy saying them, but it gets sickening. And that was it.

I had an episode with my head, one of those in which I try to defend my mom because he's being a bitch to her, and then he turns to me and shuts me up. I locked myself in the bathroom, and smashed my head against the mirror. Then I banged my wrists against the walls, and I started to have trouble breathing. It must be the closest to having a panic attack...I suppose if anyone would've come close to that room, would've thought "she's masturbating pretty good". But no. I was just crying, and I wanted to kill myself. I grabbed a knife from the kitchen, but something made me drop it.

After calming down, I went on the computer, and I didn't answer some question my dad asked...that upset him, but I was pissy, and I wanted to murder him for always shutting me up. Eventually, I locked myself in my bedroom, and did the cutting. I wasn't going to sleep, but I did. I set the alarm clock to call Joseph at 4 am, but I fell back asleep.

There was an eclipse this afternoon. I was early at the campus, and I decided to go buy my cold capuccino. When I was leaving the coffeehouse I saw Joseph, and we met up at the pedestrian gate. We walked together, and I knew. I knew. He'd said he wouldn't go the university today.

He pointed at a bench. "Shall we?". We sat. Your last message kept me up, I thought a lot about it. And that it was best to stop, because things couldn't go on like this. I told him I was very hurt, more than he could imagine. He said he was sorry. Can you tell me what did I do wrong?, I asked. He looked around: you're too fragile for me. And went on about how we both tried to change, but it wasn't enough, and some things just can't be changed because they're part of you.

- Me: you don't love as you used to, do you?
- Him:....no.

I suspected it. So it wasn't a big blow. Can you kiss me for the last time?. He did. And I said the friend thing, and he replied, with a quasi-smile. The whole conversation was in whispers, and it wasn't longer than three minutes.

I needed a hug, or someone to run to and tell that I'd just lost the love of my life. But there wasn't anyone. I had someone in mind, but ironically, it was the person I'd just put a distance to. So I just went to my spot, the concrete stairs. I held the cappuccino in my hand, trying not to stare at the eclipse, although the sunrays were orange. The weather was warm, it was like 5:30 (it was only 3:30), and in my sadness, I was kind of comforted.

What I did for the rest of the day kept me busy, although the tears were always trembling in my eyelashes, and I had to swallow hard. Today was change of content of the Psychology Billboard, and I sort of told the other girls about it. They didn't make a big deal out of it, but because I was trying to hold myself together.

Joseph walked past me once, and I think he saw me, but acted like he didn't. See, that I wanted to avoid. But later on, one of the guys part of the Psychology Billboard called me and told me to go wait for him at the entrance, because he had part of the material for the billboard but wouldn't attend class today. I went to the gate, and when I was coming back into the campus, Joseph was there. I softly slapped him in the back of his head, and offered him a big grin. He was coming in with two of his friends. Then I walked faster, holding back the tears.

The rest was just class. I sort of told Irene about it, and her and Priscilla tried to comfort me. I wanted to talk about it, but at the same time, I didn't, because I'd break down right there, and I'd make a big scandal, in the middle of the classroom. They understood, and just tried to keep me calm. Welcome to Lack Of Affection and other essays, they said. Because their love life is always messy, and they always joke about writing that book.

I came home, and cried. Cried, cried, cried.

The good
What eases the pain a little is that we ended on good terms, I believe. No fights, no hard feelings. I'd seen this coming, also, so it wasn't a shock.

The bad.
I really am love with him. I feel like I've lost a rock star, and, even worse, my soulmate (however different we were). And I'll be constantly reminded of him, because he knew practically everyone at the university, and they always wave at me. There's no hope for another chance. I'm rejecting once again the idea of marrying and having children (he's been the only boy I've ever wanted to do that with)...I HOPE I won't EVER find anybody else. I wanted him.

There's this girl that likes him, I met her a couple of days ago. In spite of me, I think of her getting happy about the break-up and getting to hook up with him. I cry at the thought, but at least I know he'd finally be getting some. I think I insist on this thought because I pray that he'll feel there's no one better than me (that girl is shallow and preppy). But that's not possible, and it hurts me to think he'll find somebody else, somebody less "fragile". His soulmate.

Excuse me, I need to go...

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