Sleep to Dream or Wake.

I can't sleep, I want to cry and the tears stop at the side of my eyes, the side they wouldn't stop running down today as I talked to Josh.

I spent a full work day at Joshes house tonight and I think the only thing I accomplished was dehydration and finally telling him I love him, which I suppose to be a good thing. Better late than never, may or may not apply to this scenario.

Here's the deal. I cheated on Josh. Josh is the first man that has really loved me in a very long time. He's one of the reasons for this blog, these entries, and this "blog title." A Chest Full... a chest full of what? Its my chest and his; his chest is full of every bit of love you can feel for someone, I know that because his eyes are so full of sorrow and happiness all at the same time, all the time, I know that because when I lay on that chest I feel it all, I feel everything he's ever felt, its like radio frequencies that pound through my ear into my brain and heart. I lay on his chest and everything leaves me, until today. Today, as I laid on his chest, nothing left, it was exactly opposite, everything came to me... it was like for once I felt everything inside him push through me. I know how stupid that sounds, how weirdly Dramatic-Rom-Com that comes off as... but I think words are hard for me because I can't let them leave my body without thinking "god, this sounds stupid as fuck." That feeling, though. I can safely say I've never felt it, I've never listened to another persons heart beat (other than my once semester of nursing school that crippled my soul), I've never allowed myself to be so still on another human as I do with him and today I realized I'd never really listened to what was happening in his chest. Today I noticed everything happening in there, I heard it slow down and when he'd hug me tighter as I begged tighter, it would increase. To know I can make someone's heart increase would have scared me 24 hours ago, now I can say that no matter the outcome, I'm glad I listened.

Sometimes I wonder what's happened to me in the span of the short four years ago that I lost all my given shits. I've hardened, but for good reasons... though, I tend to have more school girl fantasies than ever now. I day dream about a man wanting to really throw down the rest of him life for me, about Saturday mornings in a house that we're renovating as we sleep on a mattress thrown on the floor.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuck.

To know you lost not a good thing, a best thing, a Saturday morning, rest of your life man is enough to make you stop breathing for the moment. It's enough to send you to bed at 8:45 on a Saturday night when your friends are coaxing you out for Irish Carbombs on the most Irish Holiday.

I want to start by erasing everything I've ever said that I didn't mean. I want whomever is reading this to know a lot of things left my finger tips without thought, just mindless chatter, annoying agreeances, and selfishness. I want to really say things, I want to really write here, to really feel something. I feel things, but I forget they're real, I forget feelings are real things that I dismiss as air.

I think I can finally rest now.