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I feel like I am getting number and number by the day. I am in a bubble. I am isolated. I don’t have energy. I can’t get reactions out of people. They just aren’t as animated as I remembered them. I feel so empty sometimes. I know I lost something. I guess it was either Matt or something inside of me that he held at the surface. He kept a hold of a certain something inside of me, holding it at the surface of my personality. It’s been about 2 and a half months since I told my best friend goodbye, and I didn’t look back. I kinda talk about him a lot I guess. I think about him sometimes, usually before I go to sleep. I listen to the song “Angels” by Within Temptation and it always makes me think deeply of Matt. Maybe he was right, Matthews are always trouble. This will have made the second best friend named Matthew that I have lost. Only this time, it’s my fault. I turned my back on him in order to save myself. To save myself from getting to that point, that point where you lose control of yourself. I suppose I could have hung on a little longer. I could have tried harder. I could have followed him a little farther down the spiral. But I clawed my way out once, I slavered, I cried and bled and fought with myself until I finally reached the surface. I refuse to willingly go back. I refuse. But now, it seems I am slipping again. Slipping just a little. I am ok, I can function, I don’t have wild mood swings, I don’t do the bad things I used to do. The things that people saw in me. But I have nightmares sometimes. I have lost weight. When I first got my gym membership a few weeks ago, I weighed in at 106. (But I’m working to put on some weight to get back to 115). I stay up late, get in bed, look up at the ceiling, and I feel empty. The deeper I look into myself, the emptier I feel. It didn’t used to be like this, back in high school. The feelings weren’t numbness, weren’t emptiness. They were pain and turmoil, upset and anxiety. I thought I felt “empty” when I had lost someone, back then, but what I thought was emptiness was actually pain. Now I find myself trying to induce feeling by listening to songs that remind me of painful times in my life. Though, admittedly, I still can’t bring myself to listen to the songs that remind me of Matthew Brady very often. And when I do, I usually feel a protective film of numbness slip over my heart. It makes me feel distant, my mind slightly hazy. I want to remember it all forever, but my brain automatically tries to blur the images and the feelings to protect itself. I fear I am doing that now, with Matt Doum, only now it seems so much harder. I’ve never felt this numb, this listless, this distant from the world for actual periods of time. I’m starting to really give up on certain things, and that eats away at me. Like Mike Dean. He and I used to hang out on a fairly regular basis, and I had a decently rounded group of friends (though small as the group was). But he doesn’t have time for me anymore. I asked him if I could go with him and his new buddies to work out at the gym sometimes and he affirmed with his usual enthusiasm. But he hasn’t called once. In fact, he doesn’t ever call me. He used to call me back when I lived in Richmond to see if I wanted to go to the gym. Now he doesn’t call at all or IM me or anything. I try calling him but he doesn’t answer his cell. Heh, typical Mike. But, he is busy…and from my recent visits I have deduced that he probably doesn’t have much time to spare for me. It makes me sigh internally when I think about it. And it makes me feel sort of unworthy. But, I am farther away now, a whole 25 minutes down the Powhite, so I guess it’s to be expected. Oh well.

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November 2010
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