This sob story is dragging on for way too long. It was supposed to end last thursday, or friday morning, whichever you look at it. Sat came, and I gave in as usual. Now I have only myself to blame for the pain I feel.

By trying not to, I'm causing more hurt. Sometimes I'm truly at a loss. I'm pretty much fed up with it the way it is, the way it drags and drags and drags.

I didn't contact her today because, I don't know exactly why, but I just did not want to. I just did not want to force another lame, empty conversation. And I hurt myself by trying to call her at the end, all the time fearing a backlash that she promised wouldn't happen. The fear just won't go away.

I'm sick of all this melancholy, this divided self that I have. I'm not mad, not by modern psychological terms, but I'm sick of the divisions. Some psychologist, probably Freud, came up with this multiple selfs theory. Or something of that sort. Well, I'm a walking example of extremes rolled in one. And I can assure you, I'm not alone.

This has to stop.