If you haven't read my entry from this morning, go back and read it, otherwise you won't understand this...or maybe you don't want to. I know I sure as hell don't.

Eben and I barely spoke all day. A few words here and there, a bit of cleaning, but that's it. We didn't talk about "it" until just now. What he'd done to me. He said he was "sorry", and that he meant it. He asked what part bothered me the most, etc., etc. Nothing worthwhile, nothing that will make it okay. Then again, what the hell can make this okay?

You know, no matter how much I bitch and whine, I was close to being happy. I was trying to eat normally, I haven't been drinking or smoking, haven't done X in a few weeks, haven't cut in months...yes, I know I fucked up with Gabe but that's irrelevant now. And now...that's all fucked up. Gone. All I want to do is bleed and smoke and puke and be fucked up. That's all I want right now because I feel like I'm suffocating and I can't breathe. I can't fucking breathe and I'm falling apart.

He said he wasn't himself yesterday, that he knew he'd felt bad all day, that even with how he was acting I was good to him and talked to him all day, and then that he couldn't draw the line between pleasure and pain. I was CRYING and BEGGING him to stop...how could he NOT KNOW? He says he feels guilty, said he was sorry many times, that he deserves any punishment I dole out. That he won't touch me for however long it takes. How can I ever let him touch me again? How can I trust him, believe a word that he says? How can I believe that he loves me?

The look in his eyes last night haunts me. That horrible, cold-hearted look. That look he had when he told me he wouldn't stop unless I told him I loved him, that he wanted me to scream, wanted me to say "please, please"...

I want to hurt him but I can't. I wish I could so badly...but it wouldn't make a difference. It would only cause more pain. I don't know what pain he's in right now, if he feels guilty or not. I can't trust that he means it when he says he is. I can't trust anything anymore.

Everyone says I should leave. Kristina, Billy (friend in Chicago), Nino, Reggie...and they're right. I should go home, but I can't. I can't explain why, I just can't. I feel like I'm stuck, and I don't mean this apartment. I mean stuck in life. I can't ever see myself making something of myself, having any sort of career or even just a good life. I can't even see myself having a future, and that scares me.

I guess I'm even weaker than I thought I was. And so, tonight I go to sleep next to the man who is supposed to love me...the same man that raped me last night, who ripped my heart to shreds in only a few moments. And then, who knows. Get drunk? Sleeping pills? Cutting? Purging? Who knows. I don't even know if my normal forms of self-destruction can get me through the day now. I'm scared...I'm really, truly terrified...not of him either. Of myself.