I don't sleep that often anymore: it eludes me, and I'm somewhat thankful for that. The time it takes, lying there, trying to reach a slumber gives me too much time to think. My mind seems to subconsciously repress any feelings of tiredness, sleepiness, until it knows that my body is so exhausted, that the minute my head hits the pillow, I will cease to be.

So here I am early this morning. I did not sleep this night, and as I walked outside for a cigarette, I was able to watch the sky begin to lighten. It was so peaceful. I wish I could have said the same for myself.

I found myself in my fingertips as I walked back to my room through these tiled walls of the place I now call home. I was brushing against the boundaries, tile, wood, metal, concrete, that make up the endoskeleton of the building where I now write these words. And yet, as I sit here, with the keyboard at my hands, the laptop on my thighs, pillows at my back, and a bed beneath me, I still find it hard to feel. I wish I knew why.

I am still empty. I am still full of nothing. And it kills me inside. I keep drinking in people, and I take so much from them that in time, they lose their flavor and become bland. So I become restless and move on to the next one. I try to fill myself with their humanity: their perfections and their flaws. And it is never enough.

I still feel like I am using Jonathan, and he deserves better than that. I don't know: I guess it's just the fact that I seem to feel things when he's around. But there have been times where I have started something simply because I wanted to feel something, not caring why. I do like him, and I could see this growing to be something serious, but I can't help but feel that he deserves better than me, someone that is more stable, and someone that he can be happy with, and vice versa. Not that I'm not happy with him, but... it's complicated.

I guess it's just that I keep trying to live through my relationships with other people, whether they bey friendships, romantic relationships, pseudo-thingy-ma-bobbers, etc. And I feel like that's what I'm doing with Jon. But, now, I'm getting used to being around him, and so I'm growing accustomed to it. My relationships seem to be like drugs. They have to keep escalating, or at least changing, in some way, shape, form, or fashion, or else I build up a tolerance, and they don't have the same impact. Which is part of the reason I had sex with Jon this past week again, even though I hadn't really intended to do it, except for the last time. I mean, I like him, and I enjoyed it, but I went along with it more because I was feeling things: passion, lust, but even more important, wanted. I mean, yeah, part of it was being there and getting carried away, but then I thought about stopping, almost did, but the emptiness and void I knew I would feel if I did stop it from progressing scared me away. This is why I don't want to be with Jon- because I don't want to end up using him, making him my drug of choice. I care about him, which puts him apart from a lot of the other guys I've been with: they didn't mean anything to me, so I didn't mind using them like that. But with Jon, I care about him, and I want better for him than what I can offer. But then again, I do care about him, and keep convincing myself that I'm just being paranoid, and that it's fine for me to be with him, and my intentions are good, and not selfish in the least bit. But I''m borderline: that's what we do. We use things to keep us feeling alive. There is that chronic emptiness that consumes us all, that we feel the need to fill with something, anything, as long as we are feeling something. And before when I didn't care about the other person, I'd do it, and do it gladly, without a second thought to how it would affect them, or whether they would be bothered if they knew why I was in the relationship with them. I think, if I were to let myself actually get involved with Jon, then I would want myself to be more stable, and better deserving of him. He's a great guy, and I'm so glad I've had him in my life these past months. But he doesn't deserve this, and if he knew what being with me would really entail, I think he wouldn't want that either. Not that we aren't practically together right now, but to define it, to put a label on it, to attach himself to me... I would want him to be able to have the best of me- and this is not it, at all.

I guess that's the appeal that David has: we have such an awesome connection, and we're able to change back and forth as circumstances dictate. He can be a boyfriend to me, a friend, a brother, a confidant, anything, depending on what I need. And there's so much to him that I don't know, although I understand all of it, before the words even come out of his mouth. We have that ever-changing relationship that I crave. And whether we're together or not, that quenches my need for that aspect of my life. I guess it's like what happened when we broke up: it bugged me, but didn't bother me, as long as I still had him in my life. We were able to easily slip from boy/girlfriend into friends. And I was ok with that. Jenni compared it to imprinting in Twilight. The werewolf/guy would be whatever their soulmate needed at the time. When their intended soulmate was young, they'd be a caregiver, when they got a little older a babysitter, a little older, a friend, and older, finally a romantic partner (since werewolves apparently don't age, and therefore can wait that long). I'm glad I did have David like that when I did. When I moved, he was there to show me that I wasn't along. And then after Michael was there, he was able to restore my faith in the fact that I wasn't completely worthless and that nobody would ever want me. And I will be eternally grateful to him for that.

I don't know: things have been so confusing lately. I'm not really sure what's what. Not to mention the emptiness that is clouding my judgment on everything. It sucks ass.

But yeah, anyway: I'm gonna get some sleep.