Blood donation

The draining of the blood must be marked. Purely because of the weird state that I am in.
AND I KNOW HOW FUCKING INSANE I WILL SOUND, SO DON'T EVEN GO THERE SISTER
But I could feel the blood, the life, draining, through my arm and out into oblivion. I reached a wonderful meditative state. I placed myself in Ben's body, for all the times that he has had to lie there, 'attached'.
And since coming home. I am very depressed. As if the strength has also left me. My mind is racing at a million miles an hour, yet my body, is in a state of serene slow motion.
I think I'm enjoying this.
I hope that my blood does not carry any of 'me' in it, to transfuse into somebody else. That would be horrible for them.

NO WALLOWING

This evening. Precisely 30 minutes of violin practice. One full chapter of my book in the newly appointed reading chair. Time to get my crap ready for work tomorrow and put a film on.
Done.

For him x

I listen to that piano place you once played me in my room.
Sat by the window, with the raindrops falling upon it like the tears on my face.
And I twist my hair around and around my finger, whilst every goose pimple on my body stands up as high as it can.
And I miss you.
Again. And Again. And Again.

The tidying of the room.

I tell you what.
This constant cleaning and tidying of my room has made me feel wonderful. With my new speakers so I can hear my beautiful music, and my new reading chair, with all the accessories.
I know that most will critisise the 'area' in the corner of my room as me wallowing in the past, but like the shrine to all things holy next to my bed. It is a part of who I am. And if i have to. When I am ready. I will remove that too.
But this is me. A new person. The girl with the lovely space to chill in. The girl who plays violin. The girl who reads far too much and drinks too much tea. The girl who stays up all night making rubbish music on her midi keyboard.
This is me. And I can feel it.