Here I am.  Again.  Two suicide attempts, several years, and multiple breakdowns later, where I am is..here.  Again.  This time here is somewhere else. Where I am waiting. Waiting. Waiting for a man (a boy) to come over and distract me from myself.  A man (a boy) to make me feel warm for an hour (but leave me colder than before).  A man (a boy) who I’ve lured to my apartment with the proposition of sex.  Sex to be held.  Sex to feel loved.  Here I am.  Depressed.  Alone.  Dramatic and self deprecating.  Again. 

So where do I go from here?


…anywhere but here.