how can you not trust me after all we have been through? / is this the end for me and you?

this was, is, a blindness of mine. i demand to be believed, loved and understood, but what i say may seem far-fetched, and i can come across as stand-offish and avoiding.

one thing about the daily diaristic element of the love epochal is that on review it’s sort of reassuring to see how often i swing from despair to elation. i take every loss, lurgy or setback hard, like it’s the end of all things. then the next day i’m like “today it was sunny and i had the nicest meal out and saw a deer, life is fucking great.”

do you keep a diary?