Broken Heart

Today was another day. Woke up around 0520 – no replies, no messages – and PT was cancelled so I tried to go back to sleep. Just as I was falling asleep around 0600 (or perhaps, just as I had arrived into a dream-like state), my obnoxious third roommate (PFC Miller) entered the room and woke me up with his discourteous use of lights and noise. I decide, angrily and begrudgingly, to just get the fuck up. I have an early breakfast and arrive at work early for no reason.

I finish the OJT with the multimeters for LCpl Hartman, and then I sit around and do a bunch of nothing. I listen to angry music. I read my textbook for the final quiz I’m taking later – but I don’t read it very seriously. I am then told that I should go to early chow so I can pull the S&R watch over regular chow.

I go into the room and immediately try to nap – this is around 0930. Around 1000, I wake up from a dreamlike state thanks again to PFC Miller’s discourteous use of lights and noise. WHAT THE FUCK? Twice in the same God damn day, and when I was on early chow? Holy shit. In any case,  I once again forgo trying to get back to sleep and get on my computer. No replies, no messages. Ashley is, however, online and active. I debate internally the virtues and missteps regarding sending her a message and decide to hazard one anyway.

She is, as usual, some what distracted seeming and slow with responses. She is noncommittal with answers regarding my proposition, perhaps because she is unclear on the particulars. She apologizes and says she’s been at a Christmas party and some other things – she also says she’s taking a phone call. That’s all fine, I suppose. I tell her I have to be getting back to work, but that perhaps when she gets a moment to herself, she could write me back and wish her well.

I go back to work. I read some of this guy’s stuff, having found it from BusterB’s webpage. Around 1300 I go back into the lab and wait for Griffo to finish whatever she’s doing in mech so I can OJT her on multimeters. I listen to angry music. I read my textbook nonchalantly. I “keep on trucking,” as I have been since forever. (I learned previously not to wear my heart on my sleeve, sometime in high school.) Griffo doesn’t get far with her training before I have to leave for class.

I go to class. I take the quiz. I come home. Ashley hasn’t responded. She looks as though she is active on the internet, however, so I hazard a message. This is about fifty minutes ago. She has not responded, still. Oh well, right?

Seriously, I want to be fucking dead at times like this. I’m not in any danger of killing myself, I’m just saying.

One of the songs I listened to many times today (Broken Heart by Motion City Soundtrack, bold for emphasis):

I’ll start this broken heart
I’ll fix it up so it will work again
Better than before
Then I’ll star in a mystery
A tragic tale of all that’s yet to come
Fingers crossed there will be love

But I get carried away with every day
And every fantasy
the deeper the wound,
the harder I swoon and wish that that was me

So much to say
But no words to convey
The loneliness building with each passing day
But I’m getting used to it, you have to get used to it

I’ll devise the best disguise
A brand new look and take them by surprise
They’ll never guess what’s not inside

I’ll express myself with ease,
With confidence and character complete
With fingers crossed they’ll talk to me

But I get carried away with every page
In every magazine
The cheaper the thrill
the deeper I fill my head with blasphemy

So much to say
But No words to convey
The loneliness building with each passing day
But I’m getting used to it, you have to get used to it

I’ll destroy this useless heart
I’ll fuck it up so it’ll never beat again
Not just for me but for anyone

But I get carried away
with every phrase and made up malady
The longer I hide behind these lies,
The more I disintegrate

So much to say
But no words to convey
The loneliness building with each passing day
But I never get used to it, you just have to live with it 

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