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Diaryland

My heart hurts. Despite the last month and a half of calm sailing there has been a tempest brewing underneath the surface, and it all came out yesterday. My ugly rose to the surface and made me do something I'm not proud of. His crazy backed him into his favorite corner and we had that same discussion one more time, the one where he tells me he has no passion for me, but not to take it personally. The moment comes when I realize that I am pathetic in my need to connect, to be loved. I'll substitute any physical connection for what I think I want.

And now the door is closed against me again, metaphorically and literally. Is this all bluster and posture or are we preparing for withdrawal? Either way I have to sleep because work promises to be a hellish mess and because the jack is finally doing it's work.

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