I hate vacations. And breaks. They make me question all of my feelings about boys and life and everything. I was so sure. And now... I don't know...

And then I was sure again...
and now...
Damnit all to hell!

I want to know he cares. And in my heart I do. But fuck. He'll tell me he gets caught up and forgets about me. I have never forgot about him. NOT once. But he forgets. And I wouldn't be so pissed about it if we weren't on such a shitty talking schedule and a getting out of a shitty situation. I want to be in his arms so I know that everything's okay. And I can't be. And not only that I can't talk to him on a regular basis. Which almost hurts more.