Home in Nine

Love The Way You Lie - Eminem ft. Rihanna

Just gonna stand there
And watch me burn
But that's alright
Because I like
The way it hurts
Just gonna stand there
And hear me cry
But that's alright
Because I love
The way you lie

- That's all we do lately anyway.  

Gotta love Eminem. Had to run into this song today, of all days. I guess God's not done torturing my already effed up soul, if I had one. Signs. Will tackle that later.

I'm not freakin' out. I'm down to single digits.

Nine more. I'm home. A week ago, I'd prolly be singing my heart out, though I really don't, thanking the Lord for pulling the days faster than I could spell six-effin'-teen.

Now?

What in heck am I going back home for? Tons more heartbreak? For someone who has proudly claimed she has already embraced pain, I don't really have any idea whether I'm ready for more beating or not.

Up to me, Atei used to say.

See, I have this really close friend, the type who forcefully pushes me around to have a little faith in forever, which quite frankly, I deem pretty childish. Anyhow, she's in for a surprise in a coupla weeks. Apparently, the one she's very much rooting for has lost his sanity, along with mine. So much for forever. Where's the trash bin again?

I can pretend I'm apathetic, that I don't feel anything, that I'm rock solid. I can say "Bah, to hell. Who the eff cares?" I can run around, minding my own business, telling myself I don't need what I was used to. I can. But that's parallel to bellowing how empty a vessel I am. I'm running out of time to compose myself. No, I don't cry any longer. I just stare into that bottle of shampoo with the "No More Tears" thingy and bam! Instant control. Until how long though? I'm holding my feelings out again. It got me nowhere and it sure as hell won't get me anywhere this time. 

Nine days. I'm screwed.