Rach,

I'm in too deep. It happened too fast. I don't know what you want from me. You tell me one thing one day, hint at something else the next. I can't play the game anymore. I can't. I'm sorry.

Yours always,

Lor

Rach,

Last night you came around..a lot later than you said you would. Guess you stopped to smoke some shit with some guy you know. Then you showed up to my place, didn't even look at me once, hardly spoke two words to me, took my money, and bailed right after Bloomill's set. Because the whole situation was "weird" to you. I don't understand. You talked to me through text message all night. Not once did you look at me. And then, come end of the night, you can't even answer a simple question. And the only thing I can think is that this is just as hard for you as it is for me.

Maybe you noticed, maybe you didn't: I've lost weight. Between the depression, new meds, and oral surgery, I just don't eat. I have panic attacks and severe highs and lows. I can't control the word vomit, I have no fucking filter. I don't know what to do with myself. I don't sleep. I don't eat. It's getting worse.

Why can't you even look at me?

Yours always,
Lor

Rach,

It's been two days of us being on good terms and, trust me, I couldn't be more thrilled. I love being able to talk to you and put up stupid pictures of one another (I will win) and idiotic links and videos. I missed that more than most things. And I'm looking forward to this weekend, no hidden intentions. Actually, my intentions are well known. No, I'm not over you. Yes, I want to be with you. Yes, I know you don't want to hear it. Yes, I will wait for the rest of my life if I have to. There has been something...big between us since the second we met. That doesn't happen to just anyone. Maybe I'm a complete idiot, but you were more than just my girlfriend. You mean the world to me.

What's shitty is that I can pinpoint the exact moment where I screwed this all up. You stopped trusting me. I never, ever meant to hurt' you. I am so sorry.

Yours always,
Lor

Rach,


We talked last night via Facebook e-mail. I'm glad we did. If nothing else, it's just nice to hear from you. I have so much I want to say but I don't want to overstep my boundaries and I don't want to say something stupid while I'm drugged up like this. So, for now, I bide my time, in hopes that in some way you will forgive me. You let me read the poem you wrote. I'm glad you did.


I am so sorry Rachael. I am.


Yours always,
Lor

Rach,


In all my sorta fucked up, sorta high, ridiculous pain med glory, I was watching videos on YouTube. I came across this:





I have no Idea if that dance is good, but I like the song and I know you like the dance stuff and I guess I just liked that our common interests collided here. I hope you're doing well.


Yours always,
Lor

Rach,


Went to my new gynecologist today. She did the basic rundown of information: family history, questions about my vag, etc. The usual. Then the following conversation occurred:
Dr. Nancy: Are you in a relationship?
Me: Ye...no. (tears well up/choke) We broke up.
Dr. Nancy: (sad look of pity?) Aw, I'm sorry to hear that. How long did you date?
Me: (choke) A little over two months.
Dr. Nancy: I'm sure it's still hard.


She has no fucking clue. I wanted to punch her. And she's a nice lady. I shouldn't want to punch nice ladies, even though everything she touched me with was like an ice cube. Those two months though...they felt like two years. You were my everything. You still are. I want nothing more than to have you in my life.


On the plus side, she gave me Prozac and her e-mail so I can get her to up my dose or change my prescription or whatever I need even while I'm at school. 


Yours always,
Lor

Rach,


I saw your post on Kate's wall. Both of them, but I'm talking about the George Harrison lyrics (no, I didn't Google that). I'm not really sure how I'm supposed to take them, or if I'm supposed to take them at all. God, I'm so sorry Rachael. I never meant it to happen this way. I keep thinking back to that first fight and how you cut yourself and we broke up. I never wanted that. I didn't know what I was doing. It kills me to know that this is all my fault. We'd still be okay if I hadn't tried to manipulate you into talking to me by hurting you.


I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.
A million times over, I am sorry. Give me a chance to show you.


Yours always,
Lor