I am becoming hollow.

Our electricity has been off for a week now. I spent the first several days with my aunt. I stayed with Johnna in a hotel. I stayed with Sarah at her house. I feel like a vagrant. Homeless. I haven't been alone for a week. I just want to sit in my room with the door closed and do whatever I want to. Read. Write. Waste time on the Internet. And not worry about the other person in the room. There won't be any.

But it has been a good week. Especially the parts where I spent whole days with Katy and drove home each night to Johnna. It was nice spending time with them. And knowing that they wanted to spend time with me, not just help keep me occupied while I had no where to go. They wanted me around whether or not I needed them. I like that. I don't want someone to be there for me because I need them, I want them to want me around just because they enjoy being around me.

And it has also been a rough sort of week. I asked my best friend, my favorite man a rough question last week. And I got the answer I suspected. But I wish I had gotten it sooner. Long, long ago. And I wish he had been more kind in his answer. But he was perfectly himself. And it hurt me. The way he spoke to me hurt more than the message. And it made me angry. So, so angry. Because it sucks to find out my suspicions are true. That I care more, tell more, trust more than he. And it was the first time I truly felt like he didn't care about me. Me, my feelings, what his behavior has done to me, like it didn't matter. I don't matter.

When Robbie hurt me, broke my heart, he called me and apologized. It wasn't enough for the damage he had already done, but it made me believe that he SAW. That he knew exactly what he had done. That he was well and truly sorry. But I don't think he sees. Or he sees and doesn't care. Either way, I can't handle that.

So I asked him not to talk to me for a few days. I didn't want to say anything in my anger that I would regret. Because anger is only a secondary response. The real problem was the hurt and disappointment and no angry words would help that at all. They would only cause more damage. And I discovered I couldn't very well pretend. It took all of my pretending to stay there as long as I could that night. To keep smiling. To not get up and leave immediately.

And I'm still angry. Because there are things you don't say and touches you don't initiate when you don't actually want a person. And now I hate those touches. Those words. Those looks. And I hate how much I want them from someone who DOES want me. When they mean something. I didn't know what it was to want those things before. It makes me angry.

And the cold manner makes me angry too. At least you got further than those girls. Maybe I wanted you to stop trusting me. I'm sorry if you felt like I was toying with you. I never said I was nice. I wanted to watch you lie. No I don't tell you as much as you tell me. You didn't tell me everything, did you? You should keep secrets.

I feel like I was walking around seeing a different picture. The wrong one. I feel like a fool. Stupid. Ridiculous. Blind. Like there was this person in front of me like a sword; I ignored all the sharp edges and admired the beauty and strength. How now can I be angry at being cut?

But I feel disregarded.

I'm trying my best to build up walls and distance so it doesn't hurt. So I'm not so angry. And it's so hard for me. I'm always so ready to forgive. To make it better. And people in my life tell me to just walk away. Stop trying. It is not worth being in a relationship that makes you feel insignificant. But I can't ignore all the good things he is. I can't forget how much I love him even when he is mean. Even when he hurts me.

I keep hoping he'll say the right things again. He used to know the right things to say. It should be like this:

Sarah Jo, I do love you and you do matter to me. Very much. I just don't love you the way you want me to. We wouldn't work well together. I know we would hurt each other. I'm not ready for the kind of relationship you want and you shouldn't have to wait. I don't want to hurt you or lose your friendship. I want to see you happy. I'm sorry if I found all the wrong ways to tell you this before. I didn't know how. But you are one of my best friends and I don't want to lose you.

But he didn't say anything like that. He said he wanted to focus on his business. He said all kinds of girls fall for him. He said he needs me to help him with his business. That I'm the only one to offer even though people he is really close to never would. He seemed so far away. Like someone who had never held me close. Someone who had never seen me cry. Had never ever ever cared.

I am a statue crumbling from the inside. I am slowly becoming hollow. I am a smile without a reason. I am an echo of my former self.

I can't cry in my bedroom. I couldn't write about it all week. I can't tell the person that I would always tell my troubles.

I cut my hair a lot shorter. I see a new person in the mirror. This girl is independent and strong. She is captivating and full of life. She is happy and confident. She doesn't need you.

But I don't want to learn the lessons I've learned from this. I don't want to be guarded and cautious. I want to see and expect the best of people. I want to trust without reason. I want to give openly and freely of myself. I want to hold nothing back. I want to tell everything. I want to feel like enough. Like more than enough. I want to feel cherished and loved.

But some things we must wait for. Sometimes you must lose good things to make room for greater things. Sometimes you must suffer hurts to build strength. Walk through pathless forest to find the right trail.

I didn't mean to talk about any of this. I meant to say how awful it feels to not be able to go home. I meant to talk about how my room looks when everything is cold and lit by the weak winter sun coming in through the slanted blinds. It looks like I am living in my car with my backseat full of all the things I feel I need each day.

I have eaten out every single day this week. I haven't been to the gym at all. I feel unhealthy. My insides feel gross. My muscles feel wrong. I want to work out and then go home and shower. I want to cut up vegetables and make a salad at home. I want to get enough sleep in a bed that feels just right. I want to be in a space that is all my own. I don't want to worry about what time I get home. Or what time anyone else goes to bed. Or where my things are least in the way. Or what I can do and say or not do and not say to be least intrusive to those people giving me a place to sleep.

I want to go on a long, long bike ride where the only thing dictating the length we go is my muscles. And the sun should be shining and there is absolutely no breeze to bike against. Or we are hiking in the woods. And the hills are sufficient to steal my breath and make my legs ache. And the sun shines through the leaves painting everything a kind of flickering green as the branches sway. And my muscles will have that satisfied tired feeling and my skin will be hot from the inside from my racing heart and hot on the outside from the persistent sun. And it won't matter if I don't have money to do anything. And I'll feel healthy and strong and beautiful.

But it is winter and I can't go home and I'm upset with the person that used to be my favorite person and I feel unhealthy and irresponsible and poor. And a lot of it is all my fault.

I should say some positive things. Nearly everyday someone says something nice to me. They say my hair is cute. They say they like my glasses. They say I have a nice smile. They say I am the nicest person they have ever met. They say I am cute. Adorable. Beautiful. They say I have pretty eyes. They say I look good since the weight loss. They say I brightened their day. They say I am funny. They say I tell good stories. They think I am smart. Strong. Inspiring. They say I have a pretty voice.

And more important, my friends say things that REALLY matter. With words, or just by being my friend. For more than a decade. For only months. Jeremy said I have many close friends. I do. I'm the kind of person that needs many close friends, but I feel lucky to be blessed with so many. I couldn't be all horrible and broken and not good enough and have this many wonderful people around that love me.

I think I'm not the only woman that longs for her future mate in life. Thinks about it daily. Or several times a day. I'm not the only one looking and waiting and wanting. At least there is that.

And I hope that it crosses his mind too. Wherever and whoever he is. I would like him to be at least a little uncomfortable without me. I don't need someone to complete me. Rather, someone to complement me. Fit together with me. Be my partner and we can build things together.

But for tonight I should go to bed. I've vented enough for one evening. And I've been on Johnnas laptop for far, far too long.