Retraction and Random Thoughts

I jumped the gun a bit. For now, I'm stuck in my misery. Like a prisoner, I'll be marking off the days until I'm free. Shouldn't be too long. I need time to fly faster than it's ever flown before. Time is my friend sometimes. It heals my wounds and makes me smarter. It's the most important vitamin. It's not completely my friend though. It's a frenemy. It sometimes likes to torture me by moving by so slowly that I feel as though I can almost feel myself rotting. I sometimes like to think of us all as slowly rotting. Alright, that's a little morbid. But it's a little bit funny to me. Once we stop growing, we begin to rot. Sometimes we speed up the rotting with drugs, alcohol, stress. I find it hilarious that by living, we're killing ourselves. I don't know, its my thought process. No one is forcing you to accept it. Anyway, I'm in my little hideaway, hiding away. It depresses me slightly that I can't make my hideaway my semi-permanent home, but at least it's here in case of near fatal mental breakdowns. That's comforting. I'm slightly depressed as it is. I hate to cite it as the cause of my uneven temperament, but I have no choice but to blame my monthly friend enemy as the reason for my bout of complete insanity. It literally causes a chemical imbalance within my body. There's such a stigma, I feel, against PMS. I hate the "oh no, stay away from her" aspect of it. It annoys me. My moods change from icy to heated in a matter of nanoseconds and you avoiding me or trying to make me feel better isn't helping. I think what I hate the most about the Evil Visitor, is the sudden surge of "friskiness". It makes me feel more desperate and lonely than any other time. I'm completely vulnerable those times. I'm totally weak. And yes, I hate it more than the cramps and bloating. I can deal with the physical pain. That's why Jesus made Drugs-Hallelujah. It's the sudden empty, worthless, I-Feel-Like-No-one-will-ever-love-me feeling. It wouldn't bother me if I were a whore. Or if I had someone who I felt really loved me(well, obviously). At least if I were a whore, I would go anywhere to get those seconds of bliss. It wouldn't mean anything to me to find some pig to roll around with to feel like someone likes me or thinks I'm cute. Because it's true, a girl can find a guy that's DTF anywhere. Throw a rock into a crowd full of (straight)guys and I guarantee no matter which one you hit, they'll be willing to fill your void(pun intended). The problem for me is, I don't know anything about that guy. I don't know what he's like or if he's nice. I may not love him. He may not love me. I need something secure to take that step. I mean, it may seem obvious to you, but, unfortunately, I know people who think it's okay that their vagina is a truck stop. It's not. At the end of the day, it's really not "just sex". It means something. Your body is something you should treasure and reserve for only the person you fully trust, understand, and love. Anything less just isn't worth it. Alright, let me step down from my soapbox. Back to the issue at hand: The Evil Visitor makes me want it BAD. I mean, I'm a teenage girl, obviously I think about it constantly, but it's EXPONENTIALLY worse when that bitch Aunt Flo is coming to town. Then, my desires turn into sharp needles tearing into my heart because there is no one to satisfy them. I spiral into a dark place where I feel as though no one will get me out. My fantasies rip through my flesh, begging to be fulfilled. But I say no, not by just anyone. My self control and strong will prevents any disasters, but the battle between my aching untouched body and my logic rages on, causing a terrible tumult within me. This is what I go through every month. Welcome to my life. It's not that great sometimes, but it's the only one I got.