*"Once you get to know sad, she has got some nice dresses." Tori Amos 2001-11-25 1:44 a.m.*

if i were to look my sad right in the eye, she would say to me, "we are lonely, my dear. very very lonely."

and i would get all squinty-eyed and pissy and say, "no, we're not." and i'd pout a little, and get kind of teary and look at her and say, "besides, we have no right to be lonely. look at all our friends and our kitten and... stuff."

and my sad would say, "but we are. maybe we shouldn't be, but we are."

and i would say, "i'm not the lonely type. i like people, but i can exist on my own, just fine." it would sound like an afterschool special line about how i can "quit any time."

and my sad would say, "then why do you cling to all these things that make you feel the least bit loved and wanted."

and i would shoot back, "well, why am i left here feeling so unloved and unwanted."

and my sad would say, "who has stopped loving you?

and i would bite my tongue from saying, "me," because that sounds overdramatic and i would say, "no one."

and i would scold me for letting her be a barrier between my friends and me. and she would say, "is that me or you?"

and we would talk a lot about how i'm all fascinated dammit lesbian jesus or some SHIT, and how that makes me uncomfortable, because it shows, look right there, that i am utterly unable to exist as just myself.

and i would say ridiculous things like, "how come other people get to be sad? and not feel bad about it? and feel that they can grow from it? how come i can't feel validated in my sad? why can't my sad just be? why won't everyone let my sad be? i worked so hard to let their sad be."

"then you weren't letting their sad be."

and i would cry and my sad would "shhhh" me and hold me, and we'd curl up in a ball together on my bed.

*listening to: *
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