Pete

Me and Pete are still not speaking. I think we're both too stubborn to make the first move. I'm tired and moody because I didnt sleep too well last night, spent quite a lot of yesterday evening in tears. I know I am petty and childish, and moody and stupid, and it's made a million times worse by my damned hormones. Pete hates it when I'm like that, but he also knows that I AM like that, and why, and that there's nothing he can do about it, and that it's not his fault, and that he should just ignore me when I'm being like that. Or at least he should by now. It was our two year anniversary on the 13th of last month. Two years, with the occasional blip, but we both agreed that blips don't count, we were never split up in our hearts, just in our heads. On one hand two years seems like a hell of a long time, I've never managed past 5 or 6 months before Pete, mainly because I've never found anyone I could seriously imagine spending my life with, or anyone who could put up with me longer than that. On the other hand, this last two years has gone past really quickly, despite some of the shit that happened this year.
I feel like shit, mainly because I know I take him for granted, even tho I've nearly lost him on three seperate occasions (the first and the last were the worst) and I cause him a lot of pain. I wish I didn't, I don't want to. Sometimes I wonder whether I am the best thing for him, that maybe he would be better off if he didn't have to worry about me being moody, and me being depressed, but then I look at him, and my heart skips and my stomach drops and I know that I love him, so much that I feel like only half a person when he's not around. I see how he looks at me, and I can see that he feels the same way about me. Knowing that, I feel that we're supposed to be together, and it would only cause damage if we split up.