Just the price I pay.

Love. I find it everywhere in my novels. Not one of my books has been outlined without it. And except for my work in progress, every book of mine has a happy ending planned. Hell, the WIP has a well off ending, but not a happy ending.

I keep thinking I will end up like Lautrec as he was portrayed in Moulin Rouge, saying that he only knows because he strives for it with his entire being. I keep seeing myself alone. I hate it that right now I'm not okay with that. Most of the time I am and look forward to a life lived selfishly. But other times I hate it, and I didn't realized how much I liked him till today. I walked away, and the hardest part is knowing that he isn't going to notice that I did, that I'm gone. I'm gone baby, and no one notices. I broke down for all of a minute, heaving, crying, wanting someone who just wants to hold me more than a minute, and for that entire minute my heart broke because I know who that someone could be and it looks so perfect and it will never be because he's not for me.

I'm afraid that the person who I delusion myself to be with is just a dream and I gave him my life without him knowing it and never will. Just blah blah blech.

I need to get rid of these feelings so I can be happy again. Is it bad that I still dream of the dreaded eX? I hate waking up with him on my mind because I know he can't be mind and i can't be his and just no. never ever again.

So many songs that just play over and over and over in my mind. the soundtracks of my life, lyrics just echoing the truth back at me. Who knew, cellophane boy, Mr. brightside, please play another love song, capturing moods, portions for foxes, why can't I.

I need sweet sweet alcohol. A cigarette. A self destructive outlet. Just something I can take so I can black out till my mood is better.

I need to write.