3/21/26 & 3/22/26: 2 goblins in love.

3/21/26

I took my mom to urgent care today.

 

I didn't want to have to keep thinking about death. I just wanted to keep kissing a man and keep holding hands with him and fall in love with him. I wanted a comforting anchor. A passionate lover, a partner. Someone who looked at me the way this particular man looked at me. I was way too hopeful. The spark was instantaneous and I just wanted to be around him all the time. And now I don't get to be around him at all. It hurts so much. I'm really sad about it.

 

It really hit me today how hard the last two and half years have been. I really just felt it all today like a million pounds of bricks on my chest. The melancholy is not leaving me today and I can't seem to stop crying.

I don't have any hope today.

 

I got into a conversation about Israel earlier with someone I matched with on a dating app. After I said Netanyahu was a war criminal they said they didn't think we were a good match. Lol. I paid $50 to get rejected by a Zionist.

 

Had a panic attack tonight. Haven't had one in awhile. 10/10 don't recommend.

 

I don't think I'm ready to date. I feel so run-down from the disappointment and sadness I've been feeling. The things that have been poking air holes in the suffocating bubble of sadness I've been trapped in recently are working with clay and writing poetry and painting and drawing and fabric collage and embroidery. I just want to throw myself into my art more intensely than I ever have before and see what happens. I know only good can come from it. I don't ever want to think about love or relationships again, other than friendships. 

 

3/22/26

All the mistakes and regrets and worries and all the rest of it that weighs down my soul almost entirely disappears for me when I'm throwing on the wheel. My arms got sore from wedging clay today. I threw five cups. It's 5 p.m. on a Sunday and my mind races. Lightning bolts of melancholy shoot through my heart and flood it with heavy sadness. Maybe I should do my taxes today to distract myself. 

 

Why do we get our hopes up so much even though we know it makes us intensely more vulnerable to pain if it doesn't work out? 

 

 

Okay, now for a poetry interlude...

 

2 Goblins

 

He's gone and will

forget me

like a frog forgets to croak.

It will seep through the porous

surface

and perish,

disappear in full-bellied furious

force

like a parade of sad pigeons flying upward and away.

The guilt is a tall flower with

insatiably complex petals racing

through a tangle of uneasy

predicament.

You are a ghoulish heart

and I hoped one day we could

be two goblins in love.