It must be my toothbrush fault for my having bad teeth

I guess I have a point right over there.

I don't really know when I started to feel fear again. Was it the first day of school? Was it when I failed some exercises in a row? Was it when she hung up?
I don't know if it's a good or bad thing; but hell, I'm afraid.
Because success would mean departure. Leaving the people I've long loved, leaving the people I've just started to love, leaving many things. And, do I really want to?
Hell, yeah; it's a dream. It IS what had me stand up and kick my own ass off last summer when I was lost; it's a goal, the only goal I have now. But yeah, right, I'm afraid. Because if I fail; it would mean everything I have done the past few weeks wasn't worth anything. But what is gonna hurt most is the day I will learn I have succeeded. I'll be happy, like never before; but I will immediatly see the clock appear, saying that there's not much time left with them.

I don't know why, I guess the circumstances helped; I found people I really love here.
And I'm afraid to lose them overnight.
In fact, when you look at it closely.

I'm just afraid to lose them the way I lost you.

U mad bro?

In order to diversify the writing process a little, I thought it'd be better to kick off with the end of the message.
In fact, not at all, it's just stupid, but let's do this anyway, cuz dat's what I am.

I've fucked it up.

Voilà.

__________________________________________________________

Is it true? Has it really been 6 months already? I mean, today's the "half anniversary" right? Shit, what's up with that. I still don't know much more, I've still got the same questions. But I'm not exhausting myself trying to answer them. F*ck dem.

This morning was the very first one, in this long six month time, that I didn't think of you. I woke up; you weren't there. It doesn't mean Rex and pas didn't get their " good morning " kisses; but, may it be a sign that
I'm starting to heal?

I still feel the hole in my heart, it still stings when I say your name or talk about you, but it seems the remaining parts of the corpse have started to beat again. And lately, I can feel the flow of feelings, happiness and boring stuff like that. Like, dude, that's quite good. I have to admit I'm not over it yet; but I'm well through the aftermath already. And I can foolishly say, as the very cocky kid I am; we've been doing hell of a job.

The only problem might be the unclear reasons of "why is it going way - insert best word on your own, you lazy ass - all of a sudden?". Because it's thanks to someone; and it means a lot to me; whereas I don't think the person foresees the way I'm going to follow now.
And I'm quite afraid to hit this peculiar road.

That's gonna be a long year man; and I'd better take care because if I don't; I'll once again be able to say that

- Insert the f*cking start here -

Dad

Today started in a pretty bad way. To sum it up, I managed in a few hours to become deaf with my left-hear,   to break a tupperware, and I almost burnt myself. All this after forgetting to turn the alarm off, and so waking up at 7 a.m. . These days when you know you'd be better off going back to bed.
Finally I didn't do anything good or productive.
Then dad came back home, and said he had been chosen for the job he wanted to do. He was so happy, so relieved, that's good. I have a hard time showing my feelings now, since you left me Emma I don't manage to feel such things as happiness.

But still if one day you read this,
I'm proud of you dad.

Finally, that might not be such a bad day.

You know, I've just looked at my phone, and realised I missed receiving messages from you.
I miss you so much Emma.
I can't help but hope I'll one day receive a message from the number that holds the top place in the most used in my phone.
And by far.

I still love you Emma.
And today even more than when we were together.
I love you.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pIBdAdnTqqo&noredirect=1

Crash

I still have a hard time figuring out you're not going to come back.

There are days I feel quite good, because unconsciously I think you will eventually come back to me.
But you won't.

And when I finally manage to hear it, I feel the hole deep inside and the associated pain. I feel the frustration to not have been able to make proper farewell. Fuck, you never have any second chance for farewell you know, when the other is gone, he's gone. I would have liked to at least be allowed to tell you the things I feel.  The time you had nearly left me, a few months ago; I had faced you and had been able to tell you everything. This time, I will never have the chance to express my farewell correctly.
And I will bear an hefty grudge against myself for that, all my life.

Everyday I cry. I cry because I miss you, because I'm left here without a clue of what's ahead. Because I know I won't know this feeling again.

I wish I could hate you, this way it would be a lot easier. But I just can't, because I love you and I'm bound to respect your choices.
Even when they hurt like shit.

I'm left here, unable to watch movies I saw with you. Movies you certainly don't even remember we watched together. But things have meaning to me. The tinier it was, the bigger the impact. And thus, I hardly have time to rest, since you haunt my mind at least 90% of the time.
At day.

The worst part that remains is the night.
I'm now used to dreaming of you, of realities where I am happier or at least, you are.
The point is, when I am sleeping, who is cast in the dream is not me. It's the me of 1 month ago. The me who took the whole thing in his fucking face, unable to do anything. Today, I can face it, because I have much enough hatred and pain inside to help me fight back.
Yes, it might be the proper use of this expression. To fight back.
Even though I'm not fighting with anything.
The hatred I bear against myself is much more powerful than I am, and while I can't handle the situation, I can handle the hatred now, and live with it. My old self could not.
So at night, he can't do anything at all. And when I wake up alone, in this room whose walls were painted by  everybody but you, there is a bitter taste in my throat. And I can feel the hole in my stomach telling me " You had it coming, eat it ".

So I do.

That's true, I'm just standing relying on the most powerful thing I'm left with; aka my anger and rage.
You would hardly recognise me If you were to see me now; but what can I say?
My feelings for you haven't changed an inch.
But my personnality had to in order not to collapse on itself.

Yes, you're gone, and today I don't manage to figure it out by myself. This is just gonna make the night more difficult.
I spend my day focusing on an internal struggle I can't win.
But that I have to fight.

I have to fight back.
Against myself

You're gone and I would like to believe, as I sometimes let my mind wander and think of it, by weakness, that you'll one day come back and be happy with me.
But you won't, that's the reality I'm in.
You won't ever come back, and I'll have to live with this wound which opens anew each time something reminds me of us.

Because us is no longer a reliable pronoun.
But what hurts the most is that very deep inside, in my heart, and even though you didn't want to say it.
You know too.

It's never gonna be again.

Drunk

Yes, tonight, I was drunk.

Yes I drank, because I wanted to know how alcohol would taste now that you're gone.
And honestly.
It doesn't taste that good.

That might be because I've changed quite a lot lately, but I didn't feel any feeling of happiness, any boost for my drastically lowered amount of hopes. By the way, I just felt like my head was spinning, and that was all.

I have to admit, yes, it made me forget. Not what had happened, but it helped me fool myself and made me feel like it was not over. For 1/10th of a second, I even thought of sending you a mere texto to ask you if everything was okay. It took me a second to realise my mistake and abort the looking-for-my-mobile- phone process. Cause you're gone, and I can't do anything. According to the calendar, it's even been 1 month you're gone.

March, 13th. And it ain't got much better since then. I just feel like I've changed, and am still changing, sealing my old self inside so that he would be able to rest a little. Because in the end, when I understood I wouldn't be strong enough to be through you, there were only two lucid choices. The first one was the kind you should avoid as far as other people are concerned, ans I'm glad I didn't choose it, since I wouldn't be there to write it otherwise. The second one was to use the total amount of strenght I had with me, this tiny, ludicrous power; and , not being able to mold it into something able to overcome the ordeal, at least create someone else who could. Some say such things completely reprogram the mind. I do think so in fact. And so today, it's not easier. I've just changed, toughened.

Long story short, tonight I was waiting, because usually I used to drink when you had a party, and I was doing so to forget and hide I was anxious and worried. And after having drunk too much and being sick, I would wait for  your message, simply saying
 "Je suis rentré mon coeur, tout s'est bien passé! Tu me manques beaucoup, je t'aime! <3>

Today I miss you, but you don't miss me
 Today I still love you, but you don't anymore.
So tonight you might have a party, if so you must be having fun right now, maybe with some random guy; whatever. It's none of my business. Anymore.

I learned your mom called mine last Sunday. It's always hard to learn that people on your side still care about me, because It means I have existed. But soon, I won't be more than a memory.

While you'll never be.

I'll end this up reminding a simple conversation I had yesterday with a friend of mine. Telling I could never call you an ex, because you were so different from the others, I could just call you emma.

But you, you certainly already refer to me as an ex.

You certainly smile, you're certainly happy, maybe even meeting new guys. And I hope one will succeed where I failed.
I'll always hope you're happy, as I know I'll always love you and my promises have never sounded as true as  now.

Tonight there's not 1 hour left on the clock before tomorrow, and I will finish this paper without receiving a single message from you.

And if you ever happen to land there by some mistake I'll have you know.

It's fucking tough

And in the end, I would wake up with a serious hangover, with you making fun of me; and I would just be happy to be with you.


So tomorrow, I'll know no hangover.

Nor happiness.

Ice tea

In fact, I'm afraid to write what's ahead on badukandco, because deep inside I still hope that, if one day you finally get to go there, you will see how much I love you, and how painful it is to bear your departure.

I also hope your english won't get better than mine; because if you end up reminding of badukandco.
There's not much room between the two places.

So I'd be screwed.

I just don't want to write a lot there, the simple need to spit the harshest words, to make it as small as possible so that each word can show how much it hurts by itself. At least you can see things clearly without any useless clothing.

Because in a small text, I still can say it hurts, much, and I miss you; this time you can even add too before much. I still hope you're happy, more than anything, I still bear a grudge against myself. I'm still changing.

For the worse.

When the analysis is longer than the actual game

Spitting on people's been a lot easier lately.

It might have been a little too trash for badukandco, and a story about nonsense

The truth is, I'm not very comfortable about writing shit on badukandco, while it doesn't matter to me if what I write here is considered as scum. Anyway, what is this in the first place? My big trashcan.

I'm not comfortable with the idea of going to school on saturday afternoons.

I'm not comfortable with many things as for now in fact.

This weird impression that everything is gonna get worse, no watter what. The better the day, the worse the night. The worse the day, the worser the night. And what am I to do in the middle?

Something isn't right, like...I don't know. That might pretty well be the problem. 

I remember the time I spent my days thinking about nothing, and I was happy about it. Now, I have no reason not to be. But you know what? Fuck off.