called you so many times today

and i guess it's all true what your girlfriends say. That you don't ever want to see me again and your brother's gonna kill me and he's six feet ten.

I love that old police song. I loved it back when I first heard it in the eighties and I've loved it every time I have heard it since then, up to right now.

I haven't blogged on this page since last November. "Have you been blogging somewhere else?" Stern Face, shaking finger. yeah, and no. Still doing my zine, getting up on issue #14 and still haven't gotten over my ex. It's been over a year since I was told by him that he hadn't loved me for two years and I still can't stop being crazy in love with him. Now, it is a sickness, in my mind, in my heart. I have gone on dates and none of them have gotten near to his magic-his thing, I don't know. Just this morning I was lying in bed wide awake at 7:30 (unheard of for a lazybones like me), fantasizing about our getting back together scenarios. Oy, veh.
I was pretty sad and I am sad now. At least then I was still premenstrual!

I guess you'd call it suicide but I'm too full to swallow my pride. I can't I can't I can't stop losing I can't I can't I can't stop losing I can't I can't I can't stop losing...Can't stop losing YOU!