ASC Pt. III

I should be writing an essay on Jane Austen and the film adaptations of her novel Emma, but I can't. I just can't... there's too much insanity inside of me that comes down to this...

I don't love her anymore.

Yes, I'm writing that here and now... I don't love her anymore. I'm typing this with my eyes closed because it hurts so much to admit. I don't love her anymore... not the way I used and not the way I want to. I love her for what she was to me and the honestly good human being that she is, and even the great friend she continues to be for me, but I no longer love her... I don't love her as the woman I want to spend my life with. I don't love her as the girl I'd want to spend my life. I don't love her the way that I used.

I cannot keep wanting to be with her. I can't. It's not healthy. I can't hold onto this hopeless hope, I suppose you can just call it hopelessness... I can't. It's over. She'll never love me the way I want her to love me, and even if she did, it wouldn't be the same. She would only come to me in fear... or reliability... or comfort... but it would never be real. I could never be as real as it was before... no matter how fake it might have been.

She just got a new piercing... she e-mailed me about it. And it just showed me how far removed from one another's lives we really are now. I love her so much... but I just can't anymore. I'm sorry.