pushing hours.
Monday, Dec. 30, 2002
i remember when things weren't so bad.last night, it was really bad.
i hid my head under the covers for a good two hours until rockstar got home because i kept hearing a squeaky weathervane, random knocking, and a haunting guitar being played on my porch. i couldn't decide exactly how far into crazy i was.
when rockstar's drunken footsteps finally collided with the sound of keys, i popped up and screamed until he came in and turned on my light.
crying and hysterical, my heart wouldn't slow, and my jaw was chattering. i was freezing cold. i just wanted the night to be over. i couldn't find anyone but myself in the world for hours.
