I am feeling very, very lonely today. It's 7:18 and I have absolutely nothing to do. And this really doesn't even have to do with Matt, it's just me and my crappyness.

I was going to be different when I got to Austin. I was going to be all about making friends, I was going to get a fabulous job, I was going to lose weight and stun people with my beauty. And now it's practically 4 weeks since I got here and I haven't accomplished any of that. I'm sitting here obsessing over my ex boyfriend, obsessing over my own loneliness, and I don't know what to do about it.

I'm REALLY starting to regret moving here. I miss Dallas like a sonbitch, and I feel like I don't belong here. Why did I move here? To escape from Dallas? I didn't really escape. My mom still calls me everyday, I still talk to Matt, it's really like I didn't leave at all.

But that's such a cop out. I moved here because I've always dreamed of moving here. It's something I've wanted to do for as long as I can remember. Last year I worried about not being able to come here for Spring Break, and guess what? I fixed that problem by moving here.

I'm going to have friends soon. Small groups at church start on Thursday, so I can really start getting to the core of the church thing and really meeting people on a personal basis. I need people to kick my ass and make me get into a more godly state of mind. I need a spiritual base. I need something. My brother is really trying hard to help me, but he can only do so much.

I'm trying to tell myself that if I still lived in Dallas, it wouldn't mean that I had more of a chance with Matt. It wouldn't mean he'd dump his girlfriend. He was with her even when I did live in Dallas, so really it doesn't make a difference. But it makes me think.. if we were having this intimate conversation thing while I still lived there, would I have a chance? And would we even have these intimate conversations if I did live there?

I mean, really Elizabeth, shut the fuck up. I'm so tired of myself. I'm so tired of my stupid little break-up and how heavily it has affected me. I was thinking in the shower today that break-ups are almost beautiful, you know? They make you feel this pain that you would have never felt unless it actually happened this way, at this point, with this person. The pain is beautiful because it makes you take stock of your life and your decisions and your likes and dislikes. And it's been THREE FUCKING MONTHS. I don't even think I've gotten past the denial stage. If I had an anger stage it lasted like.. a couple of days. I want to be angry with him, I want to make voodoo dolls and slash his tires and complain to all my friends about what a horrible person he is, but I can't. I have been denied my basic right to be angry because he's such a "nice guy."

I still cry everyday and I still wait with anticipation until he talks to me again. I know I should stop talking to him but.. well, you know.

I'm so tired of myself. I'm so tired of my life. It should be exciting. I just graduated, I have my whole life ahead of me. But I feel stuck, and I feel like I can't get out of here. I want a job, I want friends, I want a boyfriend. I want to be HAPPY. I mean, really, HOW THE FUCK HARD IS IT TO JUST DECIDE TO BE HAPPY? The last time I was happy.. it was just a long time ago. I think I was somewhat happy when I was working for the newspaper, when I had days where I wrote really good stories and it seemed like I was making friends, but I wasn't truly happy.

I can't take this miserable loneliness anymore. Even my brilliant and wonderful story isn't as brilliant and wonderful when I try to put it out there. I'm really stuck on the first stage, denial. And if any one of you would like to comment on how ironic that is, I'd like to come through my computer and punch you in the face.

I rented the Banger Sisters and watched it with director's commentary, and the director said that he just sat down and wrote this story without worrying what anyone would think about it or if it would sell, because it was in him and he had to get it out. That was how I wrote my nanowrimo story that I'm really proud of. But this one.. this one is my ticket to the big bad world of novel publishing and I want it to be perfect.

I'm so tired of my own whining. I'm tired of taking naps because I have nothing better to do. Want to know something extremely preposterous? I actually paid $500 for 12 sessions of personal training. My dad paid for half and I told him if I didn't lose 25 pounds by the summer, I'd pay him back. My personal trainer's name is Kyle. Kyle better whip my ass into shape or I'm gonna sue the motherfucker.

I'm tired of my apartment and my flat screen monitor and my black keyboard. I'm going to go immerse myself in Barnes and Noble. Somewhere in that store is my secret to brilliant happiness, I think. I'm going to find it. And apply for a job there, or something.

Have good times.