Numb

numb

   /nʌm/ Show Spelled Pronunciation [nuhm] Show IPA adjective -er, -est, verb

–adjective

1.	deprived of physical sensation or the ability to move: fingers numb with cold.

2.	manifesting or resembling numbness: a numb sensation.

3.	incapable of action or of feeling emotion; enervated; prostrate: numb with grief.

4.	lacking or deficient in emotion or feeling; indifferent: She was numb to their pleas for mercy.

–verb (used with object)

5.	to make numb.

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Origin:
1400–50; late ME nome lit., taken, seized, var. of nomen, numen, OE numen, ptp. of niman to take, nim ¹

I'm becoming to be well aquanted with this feeling, becoming incapable of feeling anything other than the hurt that is being thrown at me by people I trusted, and part of me still wants to trust them.

Normally getting words out isn't a problem for me, especially when I'm writing, I have pages of proof, but now, when I really need them to come, they aren't. These words are taking a lot of effort to actually reach the screen. I guess that's what sod's law is.

I think my hands have stopped shaking now.

It really is how shocking how a really good day can turn right around in the space of one email, one link and one song. I think if I ever hear it again, I may just have to leave the room, I'm not sure.

The past few weeks have been some sort of hell inside my mind. I have tried so hard to make things better, but no matter what I do, nothing seems to work. I wonder why that is. Maybe there is something wrong with how I deal with things? Maybe it is how some of my words and emails are recieved. I really don't know.

I want some sort of feeling, a posative one, to come back. A bit of warmth maybe, the warmth I had earlier this afternoon. Or maybe some finality to what has been going on, though with the recent development of things, I have a feeling that it will never come.

I just don't know any more.

Friends

friend

–noun

1.	a person attached to another by feelings of affection or personal regard.

2.	a person who gives assistance; patron; supporter: friends of the Boston Symphony.

3.	a person who is on good terms with another; a person who is not hostile: Who goes there? Friend or foe?

4.	a member of the same nation, party, etc.

5.	(initial capital letter) a member of the Religious Society of Friends; a Quaker.

–verb (used with object)

6.	Rare. to befriend.

—Idiom

7.	make friends with, to enter into friendly relations with; become a friend to.

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Origin:
bef. 900; ME friend, frend, OE frēond friend, lover, relative (c. OS friund, OHG friunt (G Freund), Goth frijōnds), orig. prp. of frēogan, c. Goth frijōn to love

I have been friends with this one person for some time now, but part of me feels let down by our relationship and how little he seems to know me.

Things never used to be like this, but maybe after 5/6 years we are beginning to grow apart? I don't know. I hope we aren't. His friendship to me is too important.

Wow, second post in one day!

I wish I could get certian people out of my head.

When someone keeps saying that it is never going to happen, it's a lost cause trying to make it happen isn't it? I thought so up until now.

I think I may have just hurt the person who I have spent ages wanting to be with and I feel bad. I never intended to hurt him, I just, I can't wait around forever. I never meant to... I never meant for any of this to happen, and I wish it never had. I would give pretty much anything to have things back the way they were, back to how things were before I left. I really would.

Confusion

con⋅fu⋅sion

–noun

1.	the act of confusing.

2.	the state of being confused.

3.	disorder; upheaval; tumult; chaos: The army retreated in confusion.

4.	lack of clearness or distinctness: a confusion in his mind between right and wrong.

5.	perplexity; bewilderment: The more difficult questions left us in complete confusion.

6.	embarrassment or abashment: He blushed in confusion.

7.	Psychiatry. a disturbed mental state; disorientation.

8.	Archaic. defeat, overthrow, or ruin.

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Origin:
1300–50; ME (< class="ital-inline">confūsiōn- (s. of confūsiō).

I'm confused. There is so much going on in my head right now, I don't know where to really start with my thoughts.

There is a guy at uni and in some respects he is like the guy who obviously doesn't want me, (there is a reason I am not mentioning names).

I guess it is slightly beside the point, but maybe not, maybe it will help me deal with things better. Any way, we went to the cineam earlier, but I have the suspicion that maybe we were set up. I don't know why I think that, I just have this feeling that we were, especially as one of my friends keeps going on about it as a date.

I really don't know what to think, I don't even know why I continue to write here, I guess it is just a way of getting the thought train rolling...

Definitions

I'm re-reading a story at the moment, it's helped me through a lot before and it is helping me again. There is this one part that I completely connect with, that I have read so many times I know most of it like I know my own skin.

'There's a lot of things that are instilled in us from birth, but there's one that will always be man's downfall. The idea that there is one person who can complete you. It's all over the TV, the silver screen, books, in every day conversation. Your soul mate, or whatever word is popular for it this week. The point being, it is pretty much a given that this is the only goal you MUST achieve before you die, or otherwise you've failed. Your life, the most precious gift of all, according to some, has been a waste if one person at least hasn't been in love with you.

I've been told before, that I was loved, but every time was a lie, for they all left. And platonic love cannot replace the romantic kind, as much as we would like for it to sometimes. The truth is that I've never been loved. Completely. Fully. With abandon, with someone's entirety.

I've failed at the universe's most important task.

I know that love does not make one whole. It certainly didn't make me whole, but I tried. I'll always be flawed; I know that. But I loved anyway. Freely. Happily. Only to have it thrown back in my face. My most precious gift, some would say, and it was always returned, and never gift-wrapped. Always tattered. Always a mess.

I used to wonder why. Why was my love not important enough? Why was my love discarded so easily? And then it hit me. My love is just like I am; mundane. Ordinary. Nothing special, most certainly not a precious gift.

I wish it weren't so. More than anything, I wish I could be one of those people who are easy to fall in love with. But I'm not. Of course I'm not; how can I be that way when I'm not even worthy enough to see?

I'm addicted to the feeling of a new relationship. It's not something I actively pursue, but once it's there, there's nothing I enjoy more. I love the moment of getting to know someone. The rush I feel the first time you hold hands. Every time I hold someone's hand for the first time, I feel like I'm in middle school, relishing in this new and unfamiliar feeling of being desirable. Of someone wanting to be close to you. I love first kisses; the anticipation, the sweet relief, the neverending possibility of what the kiss was going to lead to you next. I love soft touches, adoring gazes, first compliments. There's nothing quite like it.

I miss it, horribly. I've been alone for a while now; I don't know if it's by choice yet or not. But I do miss it. Every day I long for a hug, to feel engulfed, to be held like I'm precious. Every day I long for a lingering gaze, a kind word, something...anything...that reminds me that I'm special to someone. I miss it in ways I can never express.

I miss the feel of hands on me. I miss the way someone holds you like you're going to float away if they let you go. I miss the feel of eyelashes blinking against my skin, miss the hunger in their eyes when they look at you, miss the way someone can breathe their secrets into your skin until you can feel them vibrating in your heart.

I miss being special, being adored so much, that if any of my exes walked back into my life, asking me to take them back, I would. It wouldn't matter to me how much they had hurt me, how broken I had felt when they left. I would take them back, because I want to be loved. I want to be adored. I would forgive their every slight, every mistake, every callous word and action, if it meant I didn't have to go to bed alone at night.

I might be meant to be alone, but I don't want to be. I find myself sometimes brushing my own hands against my skin, just to feel a touch. But touches are meaningless when there's no feeling, no love, behind it. So I lay in bed, clutching my blankets, clutching my pillow, clutching anything I can so I don't feel so alone. They're inanimate objects, but it's all I have. Really, I'm just...lonely.

I miss sex, I suppose, but I really miss love the most. The security, the comfort of knowing someone is there, someone is taking their time with you...no one takes time with me anymore. I don't know what the hell I'm trying to say. It's just so cold inside of me, and I'd give anything right now to be warm.'

The first time I read this, it hit me deep down and I really didn't know what to think. Reading it again now, it's the same.

I have been in love for a while now but all that person seems to do now is hurt me, discard my feelings, rejecting my love and giving it back to me tattered and torn. I know I will get over it at some point, but I guess, even though I don't fall in love easily, I'll survive.

Have You Ever???

I know how emo this is probably going to sound. But there really must be something wrong with me, why else would I have been on my own for as long as I can remember? I just don't get it.
I have tried so hard to be something someone might want but I don't want to lose myself. What a joke is that? I mean I hardly know who I am.

It hurts so much to see horrible people being happy, having something that I have been trying to find for so long... I just don't think it is fair what the nastiest people seem to always get the nicer things in life. I know life isn't fair, it's a bitch, but that doesn't stop me wishing.

Why is it though, that the one thing you want is dangled in front of you time and time again only to be taken out of sight just as you are about to grab it?

It seems as though I can't even keep my friends happy, so why would someone want to love me if they didn't have to?

I don't really know why I am writing on here, I mean no one reads it, maybe that is why. I don't know. I really don't know any more...