are those rain drops the tears from your eyes dropping down to the earth?

three weeks.

its been three weeks without you. 
not a minute has gone by that i ask "why?"
why you?
why now?
why this way?
not a minute has gone by that i don't miss you.
i long to be by your side.
to hold your hands and wrap my arms tight around your fragile, innocent soul.

i wonder why it had to be you to go first.
neither of us wanted to be here to begin with.
we needed eachother.
we needed to know that when the rest of the world is busy corrupting the saints, we had eachother.

you still have me...
...but you are so far away...
and staring at the vast grey sky is no more comforting to me than watching a homeless alcoholic begging for booze bucks on the highway divider.

this world is shit and you didnt deserve to have to be here.
but you were the only good thing left in my world.

and those grey skies aint cutting it.

the weed, the ativan, the valium, the ambien, the schnapps, the adderall.
nothing  makes it as good as it could have been if i had you to share those with.

this is going nowhere.
and i see me going nowhere.

i havent fully convinced myself that you dont want me to keep you company up there.
i have the means...  its a matter of time, i guess.

hours, days, weeks, years, centuries.
after i tie up some loose ends.
finish god's work.

i will be there with you, lizzie.

because i will not be happy until i am.

R.I.P. my dearest lizzie.

may the angels comfort you.
may you find happiness amoungst the stars.

my heart and soul are forver with you.

tidal waves

my emotions, my motivation, ebb in and out like tidal waves with the moon.

Lucky- Number- Thirteen days until I am no longer a teenager.
The "Big Two- Oh"

my mom asked me what i wanted for my birthday.
aside from it NOT coming?
aside for me actually wanting it to come?

happiness.  contentment.  peace-of-mind.
and whats been my most recent dilemma:

the constant picking out, picking at, plucking, poking, pulling, purging, puking, penetrating, prodding, playing with, pointing out, and persecuting my imperfections.

to cease.

my arms are polka-dotted with tiny red scabs where i have derouted my hair follicles until they bled.
my "nether-regions" are pock-marked with scars and scabs because no matter how much time i spend with the tweezers (two three hours at least at a time) i still find hair stubs.
luckily im starting to leave my poor eyebrows alone.  and have never found contentment with pulling out the hair on my head.  at least in that way i may be found attractive.

(speaking of:)
apparently even by decent looking (but obviously drugged/ drunken) guys when i am half dead at work at 3 am.
ive gotten numbers, requests for numbers, invites to parties, ect... all in the past 3 overnight shifts.
not to mention the OLD guys who "innocently" compliment me ("wow, are you beautiful!") and thenb tip me more then their coffee costed to begin with.

but other than that. 
i feel decent.
  when i forget about my illnesses, bid them farewell from my mind, i am proud.

i have survived thus far, and far longer i will thrive.
and my most pleasing accomplishment:
my work.  my boss loves me, my customers compliment profusely on my work ethic and attitude, i just got a raise.
i feel like i'm going places.

oh, and who else do you know has to withdraw money from their bank account before depositing their pay check so that the state doesnt adjust their benefits? 
6 months and ive saved 3,000$

unfortunately, that money can not buy complete and utter happiness.

im fairly certain that the only reason i stayed as long as i did was that the chaos with him, his family, the law helped distract me from my own issues.
(there is no one more fucked up than the entirity of those people).

but now i had decided its time to focus on ME and ignore all their bull.

so friday morning my boss calls me.  the cops came into my work looking for me/ him.

it turns out he had stopped by at like 1am that morning and on his way home, right in front of our old place, he was stabbed in thge chest.  a 2 inch puncture, got in the papers and everything.
i laughed when i found out. and when i went over there to ask about what the hell happened, there was a syringe on the counter.

"its my brother's"

BULLSHIT.

thats the last time i ever see or talk to him.

and then sunday at 3 am when i was working (ive been pulling overnight shifts.  10pm to 6am.  monday night was my first nights sleep after a string of three of these.  and i go back tonight at 10.  but i love them.  the baker is a really nice guy and i get to clean clean clean and smoke smoke smoke) it was quite busy bc there were so many parties "the first night of summer" (do you know how many parties i was invited to? "dude im at work"  someone pulled out a mini-keg and asked "want some? you have any cups in there?"  i work at dunkin donuts of course i have cups.  no! i dont drink!) that was completely off topic.  i gat a call at 3am it was just "lia i love you lia i love you"  over and over.  i asked who it was he said "chris. lia i love you"  but it definately didnt sound like him.  it sounded like a drunk version of his friend trying to sound drunker. "shut up, mike."  click.

thats unimportant.  i finally got the raise he kept promising to give me.  ill see it this wednesday i believe, so i dont know how much extra it is (but honestly if its fucking like 25 cents itll be dumb bc itd only be 2$ for an 8 hour shift which is basically all taken in taxes anyways!!)

i could stay w my mom, i am right now, but shes moving in with her fiancee in a few weeks and hes in a different state.  so id lose my healthcare, doctors, job, ect.... so my next move is grams.

...but... sarah if you read this before i call you... id love to look for apartments with you if you are able to leave your living situation.  are you tied to the worcester area? or would you be willing to move to attleboro?

ooops... i posted that and forgot...
his brother called me last night and told me chris was arrested for throwing rocks at mikes house, i believe? 

it wasnt that bad when i was there...

his whole family used to tell me "you're the best thing to have happened to him"
yeah, and hes the worst thing to have happened to me.
aside from those silly pills he helped me discover.

it has taken me a week to build up the nerve to post on here.

before i could use the excuse of not having internet when i was living with my boyfriend.
but now thats over.  for the second time.
but for real this time.

the first time i left him was two months (already?!) ago.
i had gotten down to 85 pounds and admitted myself into the hospital.
moving out all of my stuff and trying to emotionally disconnect beforehand.
i ended up getting discharged much sooner than expected and moved back in with my mom.

but he was calling constantly:
"i love you. i miss you."
and, frankly, i was tired of walking 30 minutes to  work everyday at 6 am or 11pm or whenever i was scheduled...
so i moved back in with him.
shortly thereafter, the arguing resumed, the "using" (him of me, me of stimulants) got worse, and i started to get depressed...
... very, very depressed...

at one point my friend called the cops because i wouldnt answer my phone.
chris and i had just gotten in an arguement because he wanted some of my ativan.  i told him he had already stolen may's entire rx.  he got mad.  called me a bitch.  a cunt.  yaddayadda.  told me my friends use me to "hurt themselves".  so i locked myself in our room and shut off my cellphone.
two cruisers drove up, the cops came out handcuffed me and brought me to the e.r.
luckily one of my mental health workers was already thereand talked to the crisis worker the next morning and i "got out" of that hospital commitment.
but i was just depressed and angry, and i know how to handle that by now, so i didnt need to be in-patient anyways. they discharged me back home.

when i walk through the door, i am shocked by how filthy one boy can make an entire house over night.
we somehow got into another fight as soon as i got home.
im sure it was about pills or money, or boys texting me, but every fight is always the same so they all started to blur together.  i cant pick out the individual fights per-say, but to me, they all sound like this:

"lia, you're a fucking psycho bitch.  cunt.  you're so childish.  liar.  fucking bitch."

the final straw was last tuesday. 
when he spews those insults he sounds so full of hate, i get scared sometimes.
after the argument began i was so full of self hatred
(""what did i do to deserve this?")

i picked up a knife on the counter in front of  me and when i realized i wanted to stab myself or slice my wrist with it, i threw it.  this obviously gave chris more to spit back at me and he said:
"you fucking psycho bitch. you do belong in a state hospital."
and i KNOW ive come so far to stay out of those places, so i smacked him over the head a couple times and left.
for good.

now im back with my mom, but when she moves out of state july 20th ill be officially homeless.

that is if i can manage to stay alive and out of a hospital that long.
i think somehow in this chaos i forgot that i was supposed to be taking care of myself.

and the number has dropped below 90 again.