i can't do anything. i am helpless. everywhere i look i see something that reminds me of him. a tee shirt he borrowed from me. a record i bought because i liked a song from it that he put on a mixtape. the bracelet on my wrist that compliments the one i made him. the last time i cut my toenails was when he was here visiting. the last number i called on my cell phone was his house.

i was trying to distract myself by playing with this snazzy new computer my dad just bought and i put in this cd-r i made off my brother's computer before we moved into this new house. the cd-r is filled with tons of pictures and movies. probably 1/3 of the material on that cd-r is jeremiah or jeremiah/me related. i am a basketcase. my neck is wet with tears. my whole face is smeared with tears. my fingers are wet as i type this right now. i have never been good with break ups. the hardest part about this is that we still love each other; that he "just need(s) to be alone". i don't understand anything. my throat is dry and i am shaking. i keep thinking about things to distract me, but everything points back to him.

i hate that i have to rely on lyrics to convey the deepest of my emotions. maybe i'm just too scared to write down all the fears i'm feeling right now. so chris carraba will speak for me:

The Brilliant Dance

So this is odd,
the painful realization that has all gone wrong.
And nobody cares at all,
and nobody cares at all.

So you buried all your lover's clothes
and burned the letters lover wrote,
but it doesn't make it any better.
Does it make it any better?
And the plaster dented from your fist
in the hall where you had your first kiss
reminds you that the memories will fade.

So this is strange,
our sidestepping has come to be a brilliant dance
where nobody leads at all,
where nobody leads at all.

And the picture frames are facing down
and the ringing from this empty sound
is deafening and keeping you from sleep.
And breathing is a foreign task
and thinking's just too much to ask
and you're measuring your minutes by a clock that's blinking eights.

This is incredible.
Starving, insatiable,
yes, this is love for the first time.
Well you'd like to think that you were invincible.
Yeah, well weren't we all once before we felt loss for the first time?
Well this is the last time.

-Dashboard Confessional