Two months later and you're still all I can think about. I just want my life back. Today I am going to some Animania festival thing with Rachel and her fiance. Exciting. Tomorrow, nothing, next day charles' piercing maybe, next day, nothing, next day jason webley show. Woot. And all this, all of this, is without you, but you're the only one I will be thinking about, wondering where you are and who you love now. And then I see you, and it only makes things worse. Like yesterday at the movies, when you got mad for the silliest of things (and okay, I did too) and I can just never work out if you want me around or not. You call it paranoia, I call it being constantly insulted and then wondering why. What the fuck. This is us a few weeks before we broke up the first time. Me, taking pregnancy tests and texting you the result. You, drunk on a bus home from a party you didn't invite me to (okay, so I didn't know the girl, so?), too freaked out to text back. This is me a few days before, wondering if I am pregnant because my period is god knows how many days or weeks late and trying on bras and thinking only of you, buying condoms and shampoo, and you sitting at home watching tv and not even thinking about it. Probably talking to your best friend who you are now in love with more than you ever loved me. I always loved you too much. I was always too obsessed. I was then and I am now. And thousands upon thousands of buckets of wishes on shooting stars could not change that. I should know, I have tried.