God, I miss him

I just miss him so much in my life.
It felt so good to see him at first.
I wondered though if he reads my blogs. I don’t think so, but sometimes he says things, that I have been thinking about in here and I wonder, does he say it because he read it on here or does he say it because he jsut thought the same.
However, I got really mad at him today, I told him I was lonely, and that I soimetimes need someone to talk to when I am really needy. And he tells me to call a support hotline. What the fuck. First, I don’t want to call a fucking support hotline. I don’t waste money on that. second, that is not what I need. I don’t just need to talk. I need to talk to someone who knows me and cares because of me. Some anonymous situation on the phone is ridiculous, I could get in touch with people on BulimihaHelp or whatever instead and it would be better. But a fucking hotline? It’s not helpful at all. my life is too complicated to tell someone on the phone. If I am needy, in times I am really down, I don’t need someone to tell everything, I just need someone who can hold me and reassure me that I belong on this planet, that not all is wasted. I am not asking for pity. I am just asking for direct and immediate support. And I don’t want to bother him, for he knows how much I miss him… It just is so hard to forget about him. And I really try. I even just try to find another guy to hang out with but it does not work… I trust him so much. It is ridiculous.
And all the things he says are the things I tell myself and yet I cannot incorporate it.

I want to be myself again….

I had to leave fast … I got so upset… I did not want to vent out on him, so I decided it would be better to leave soon. And as soon as I had turned the car around I started crying and I had really bad suicidal thoughts. I hit the road towards Mount Bonnell. I got there and sat on the cliffs. Crying. I sent him a message and we messaged a little back and forth. I cried and cried. and it was good I went there, also I was seriously thinking about jumping down. So scary to think about that now… I mean, I was so emotionally unstable in those moments. But I was stronger. I di not. I am home now typing this. And I feel so ripped up. I feel so split in a half. The one half wants the other half back and be one real perosn the other half is scared of the work and the pain.
And that side is stronger most times.
I am so scared.