It's getting to me again, and it seems there's nothing I can do about it. Logs only help so much.
I wonder if I'm becoming an attention whore. May God forbid that from ever happening.
I don't want this physical separation anymore... soon... just a few more days... then it'll be holidays... hopefully then we can see each other again... to touch him, to feel his arms around me...
Such is the sorry human state I'm in. And each time makes me weaker.

One by one, the sparkle of my childhood dreams wink out,
snuffed by a pervading sense of hopelessness
and self pity.
Some have been attained
but it seems I have lost the ability to find new goals.
(That does not bode well for my resumè. "Lacks self motivation.")
Childishness is futile
I am not a child anymore.
But I cannot see myself as an adult.
I do not want adulthood.
And yet the days pass, forcing me to move on, never letting me go back.
The sands of time trickle cruelly down through the narrow waist between two smooth glass hemispheres.

If only I could smash that hourglass.

Hours pass... and still I wait... futile waiting.
Will simply watching from a distance do anything?
It hasn't before. Why should it now?
But what to actually do?
If I were an empath, I would know. But I'm not.
Physical distance is difficult to overcome
and it makes all other distances seem so much further.
Weeks in between... from one encounter to another...
each time, a bright flaring, like a red giant
but actually getting weaker and weaker...
until one day, I will just fade away
The day will come when nothing about me matters anymore
Already, I am not really there.

I used to know who I was.
Who am I now?
...who cares...
Nothing about me matters...

The only reason I exist is because if I didn't, then it would cause immeasurable pain to the one I don't want to hurt...