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// Entry 24 
// Story: Diary Of A Closet Romantic 
// by Lunar Spice 
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Dear journal,


My head is spinning from all my thoughts.

Oh, and probably from not eating.

It's weird, I have two things that I desperately want at the same time, but they're completely different.

On one hand, I want to think about her all the time. Every waking moment, every second spent dreaming at night. I'd practically worship the ground she walks on. Which, is actually pretty accurate because I already think she's perfect.

But...

On the other hand, I want to forget her. Well, maybe not forget her completely, but at least forget enough so that I don't have to hurt any more. I think that if I experienced this pain physically, I'd want to go to the doctor immediately to get it to stop. And one way to get this sort of pain to stop is to forget about her.

But that's so cruel. And she's my best friend. How can even a part of me want to forget her?

I guess, because it'd be so much easier that way.

I wouldn't have to second-guess everything I say to her.

I wouldn't have to suddenly deal with crippling anxiety when I think of her randomly during the day. Seriously, it's getting kinda bad. The other day at work, I forgot how to speak for a moment.

And all because I thought of her expression when I told a pretty awesome joke a while back.

Ugh, that smile.

That damned smile with those damned eyes just sparkling.

I could stare into them forever.

I love her so much it hurts. Is that normal? Is this what real love feels like?

When I'm with her, I wish I could bottle how I feel so I could just drown in them. But, when I'm not with her, it's suffocating, like a monster eating me from the inside out.

Of all the people in the world, she was the one to steal my soul. 

Of course, I've had crushes before, but never like this. There were a couple guys in school, and one girl I met at a retreat, but none of them can hold a candle to her. Heck, I don't think anyone can hold a candle to her!

There I go again. Practically worshipping her.

I need to reign it in. Otherwise, she'll be able to tell something's up.

I'm a terrible liar, especially when I'm lying to her.

And if she asks me if I'm okay, I'm screwed.

Because, honestly speaking, I'm not okay. I know it's not healthy to let an infatuation get out of hand like this. I know it's not healthy to neglect work, pretending to be sick when I'm really just in bed, trying to drown my feelings in ice cream. That is, when I even can eat.

My stomach's just been in knots recently. Almost everything I eat makes me feel even sicker, and my chest has been hurting so much, I've been losing sleep. It feels like something's being stabbed into my chest over and over again. Whenever I take my shirt off, I expect to see a mark, at least a bruise, but there's always nothing.

It makes no sense to me. 

Nothing makes any sense.