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Makes Me Wanna Holla...

I'm not sure what's going on with me, but I feel like screaming.

For some stupid reason -- and I call it stupid because it has absolutely no place in my life -- I am missing New Boo. He's proven himself to be an awful human being, and yet...there is still a shred of love for him left in my heart. I don't know why.

My Teddy Bear is doing what he does -- which is nothing. I'm not pleased with him, and it's not his fault. It's mine. I know this has a LOT to do with the lack of sex. Of course, I'm on week one of a six-week sabbatical from all things sexual so I can't do anything anyway. But I think I wouldn't be so antsy if we'd had sex in the six weeks prior to the procedure.

I hate it when my mind takes me through all kinds of pointless memories that don't mean anything. Thanks to all the lies New Boo told, our whole relationship exists on a plane that's completely meaningless to me. I don't know what was real and what wasn't, and it's not a good feeling. I remember feeling wanted by him, feeling loved. But it wasn't real. HE wasn't real. So I have these feelings that don't have anywhere to go.

If things were right between MTB and I, he'd be the recipient of all this emotion. I could give it to him when we made love, and we'd become more bonded together. But the way our situation is set up doesn't allow for all that.

So I carry these things in my heart, looking for a way out. Even though he doesn't deserve to be treated badly, I'm suffering on so many hands.

MTB hates it when I wear weaves. It's one of my favorite things in the world. Right now, my hair and I are not in agreement on how I should look so a weave is the best thing for me to do. MTB doesn't get that it's something I've done for years. Hell, I had one when he met me.

The way I see it, he's not sexing me. The LEAST he could do is not trip when I get my hair done. After all, I've got to have some sort of release. It's not like I'm cheating on him -- I'm making myself happy.

All this goes back to New Boo. These things -- no sex and weave-hatred -- make me miss the illusion he created for me. I hate this.

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