I have been learning so much about myself, and my patterns these past two weeks. I have recognized that I have a deep-rooted fear of abandonment, to disappoint people, to the point that they will always leave me.

C. is moving out and I cannot not think that it is because of me. What I can do is prevent my own insecurities from affecting other people. But in the meantime, I am kindof shattered.

The fear, I think, comes from many roots. First, of course, suicide--what else is new? and the absolutely unshakeable idea that, ok, maybe it's not my fault, but my existence, my love, my support, my love, my help, my love, were not enough to want to exist. Katarzyna, I will never recover from her departure. And most of the times I don't remember why I want to live in a world where I am sure not to meet her. I am too young for my regrets to be so heavy.

Another factor is my father, and his high expectations of me, and his perpetual disappointments. His worries that he's raised a freak. A monster, he said a couple of times. And his tendency to go from unconditional love and support to complete rejection and annihilation of who I am. I am working on that and most times he just makes me laugh, and at times it's even genuine.

And of course, Kim. She has really messed me up, though, again, recently I've starting healing and having healthy realizations about her own shortcomings and selfishness.

And the million times when I have loved people more than they loved me. Anneline, Anna, Sebastien, Ludwig, Alex, Billy. And her, now. I worry that I am not fit to have relationships in this world. That I am, indeed, a freak. That I will never be loved back as much as I can love. That I get inflamed too soon, too much, to the point that it becomes bigger than me, bigger than the other person can handle, bigger than both of her lives, and then it consumes us, our relation ship, she flees, and I'm left alone in a pile of ashes to be rebuilt and start again.

Katarzyna was the only person that loved me as much as I loved her. We exchanged pillow cases. letters that ended with words of uncoditional love. passionate declarations of you and me against the rest of the world. we drowned in lyricism. We were the only thing pure in eachother's lives, the only hope that we might not be insane after all. But then she left, too. What am I left with?

All this contributes to my insecurities, which of course makes me unbearable to other people who consider that i'm crazy, needy, etc. and who leave. And I am conscious of this and cannot stop it. I try. It doesn't work. Louise says I have to stop being so violent against myself. In both senses of the term. I am inescapably prisoner or my own shortcomings.

So, there. The emptiness that she will leave will be hard to fill. I think it will just remain there, as another hole in my life. My gruyere life. It still holds together but the vacuum attracts cold drafts.