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2013-05-07 / 7:18 p.m.

The brain buzz is back, which makes it sound far more enjoyable than it really is. Trust me, it's not all that great. Chances are, I'm an undiagnosed something-or-other in a shit load of pain, but chances are, I'm imagining that one too. There are no drugs, no mind-altering substances, no heart to heart conversations, no books that I want to read over and over 'til I don't know what else to do but literally eat them. Try telling people about these things. It's either a case of too much or too little judgment. That said, I'm beginning to understand that not caring might not really be about not caring, as such. I do it too. I care too much but I don't know how to let it manifest itself and so it appears that I don't care. But I do care. Case in point - the brain buzz is back.
So I do what I've always done. I get in the car. I pray there's some petrol in the tank so I can drive and I can cry and I can curse myself for being an undiagnosed something-or-other. I miss my medication but I was too proud. Now I'm just too goddamn poor.
It's often a choice between driving myself in circles and not knowing what to do with my emotions, or driving down to the newest man, tears trembling down my cheeks, trying to hide it when he's not looking away. I need his company in a way that I can't explain. He sits for hours on end with his back to me and we don't talk much, or even at all, but it's a quiet form of caring that makes me forget about the constant buzz. Recently, within the space of twenty-four hours, I slept nearly fourteen hours in his company and he didn't try to bother me. He sat up all night, unable to sleep, keeping quiet and only daring to squeeze my hand every time I whimpered from somewhere inside my dreams.
I guess he realises that he needs me too in a way. He gets drunk and calls me at threefourfive in the morning wondering why I can't be there. Why I'm never there. I'm too busy with the oversleeping and the buzzing brain, he's too busy telling me I shouldn't be drinking under such a heavy block of depression, he's too goddamn full of shit but seriously, just listen to me for a second, I want every damn cruel thing about him. He toughens me up. He touches me in a way my body refuses to forget. He is everything that is not the man who came before.

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