Barcelona: day ocho

A day of tears. Very sad, I've been crying since last night. Some things you learn the hard way. This whole thing with Barcelona seems so pointless to me. I feel endlessly alone and useless here. The whole city breathes on me with youth and parties and fun. In return, I exude a black cloud of loneliness, longing, and pain. It's not just about my personal life, but my professional life, too. I am completely dissatisfied with what I do at work. I want to quit. It doesn't even make sense to write about my personal life anymore, it's like every year I am put through some kind of shock therapy. And I all I wish for is just go to sleep and wake up and shop with the person I love. I have so much love in me that I have nowhere to put it.

Today I went for a walk with a Spanish guy I don't know. He helped distract me, it was funny and all right with him. But I kept getting sad when I saw a curly head somewhere. I think it's noticeable when you're walking around with someone, and the other person, though physically with you, is thinking about something else. I was thinking about how I really want to go out with A. And that I'm so sad that he doesn't want to spend time with me all the time. And that I might just cut off all contact with him. And that I've blocked R. and I don't have my friend anymore.

I want so badly to be hugged and told that I will be loved and that everything will be okay. That the fact that I've never been in a normal relationship is not my fault. That I am normal.