I've begun rereading The Perks of Being a Wallflower again and it still gives me the goosebumps. It still makes me feel the same way I felt all those months ago in June when I was reading just so I could have something to hold on to. Maybe that was a good course of action. Maybe I should be employing that same course of action now. Anything to keep me on ground level, not crying about things that are happening or might happen or might never, ever happen. Or will happen, eventually, but I can do nothing about.
I'm not going to cry anymore. I realise that sticking a plug in my heart before, when I didn't trust Dillon and I didn't trust me, was a bad course of action, but I need to do something. January is gone. And I'm still crying. Why? Stop crying, Emma. You're wearing yourself out.
I succeeded in ceremoniously ruining yesterday's long planned outing to the cinema by being in a mood and being snotty and feeling inadequate because I was wearing black tights with a brown dress and the rest of the world was so much prettier than me. I ruined our Valentine's niceties. All he was doing was being nice, in his own way, by letting me decide everything. Not because he didn't want to, but because he wanted to make sure that we were doing exactly what I wanted to do. My thoroughly childish and ungrateful attitude to this is to suggest we go home.
We did go to the cinema but it must have been an hour before we talked again. I bought him Fanta and Minstrels, a peace offering. And we were alright then, somehow, during the film with kisses and my legs wrapped around his and I drifted into a half sleep on the bus back home and I walked to my house alone half crying and crumbling and I evaporated on my bed in the dark in my coat and I phoned him with my sincerest apologies because I'd finally realised the extent of my badness and I couldn't believe it. But I don't think my sorry meant much because it never does to him.
I annoy him too much. I irritate him. I need to change. Not just for him, but for me. I'm not working for me at the moment. My personality suits no one lately. Except perhaps my mother but that's because I have no choice but to be nice to her, otherwise I will find myself out of residence. But perhaps if I'm not nice to Dillon and Aisling and everyone else, I will find myself out of good esteem and out of friendship and out of love. I need to change.
But what to do? I'm at a loss. I don't know how to be. Nothing works for me anymore. But I have a tendency to blame everything else and claim that everything else isn't working. But really it's me. And I'm also in the habit of blaming Dillon for a lot of things because it used to always be the case that things were his fault and he was the reason I felt the way I did. Maybe he was. But he's not now, not evenly slightly. It's all me. But what do I do?