I have type one diabetes. It's a bitch of a disease. I am in constant battle with weight loss, feeling tired and run down, miscalculations on carbohydrates that leave me shaky, and just in general I don't feel "good" ever.
Last night at 3am, about 4 hours before I needed to wake up for work, I woke up in a sweat, and I was super weak and shaking. I knew that before bed I had taken insulin to counter my nightly chocolate milk and cookies before bed, but I must have miscalculated...by a bunch.
I got up and immediately went to where my testing kit was, and put in a lancet (thing that pokes your finger), and hit the button for my nifty little machine to spit out a testing strip. E5? What the fuck is an E5? Aint nobody got time for that! So at this point I have a bloody finger, an error code that I think I saw on a copier once, and a snoring roomate that I'm trying not to rouse. I open the door on the back of the machine, shut it, and hit the button...it whirls and makes noises and finally shits out a strip. I test my blood sugar and I'm rocking a 45. Not good.
So i grab some raisinettes, make a little chocolate milk, and sit down and eat chocolate at 3am, all bleary eyed, sweating and shaking like a leaf. I smoke a cigarette after just to kind of get my heart rate up a little and maybe speed up the distribution of some sugar in my system. And then it hits me, I'm a fucking retard. I could die, and at that moment the person who I'm still in love with, my last words for were harsh. Sigh, maybe deservedly so, but I didn't mean what I said. The last message I wrote to her was, "I guess fuck me for caring about you." I still care about her, I still love her more than anything.
I wanted to grab my phone right at that moment and leave a message on her voicemail, just take the phone out into the hallway and tell her what was in my heart. Tears were welling in my eyes. I felt an awful nagging feeling in my soul. I miss her. I suppose my smoking must have woke up the roomate, and he asked why I was up. I told him that I was having a bout of low blood sugar and needed to stay up until I felt right. I didnt want to explain getting up and calling her to him. I know he'd understand why, he wouldnt agree, but he'd understand. I just didnt feel like having that talk at 3am.
But it's nagged at me all day. All I want to do is tell her that I love her. I still do. I never stop missing her for a moment. No matter what I do, or whom I'm with, I'd always rather it be her. I look off into the distance, and look for her, for her car. These things are supposed to get better with time, so why is it feel harder. Why does it feel like everyday that passes, I get weaker, and gravity gets stronger? I'm not happy anymore. She took that with her. I just feel like I'm going through the motions. I wanted her to hear my voice when I said these things to her. But I just can't. I can't deal with the rejection. I can't deal with it, not from her. I don't ever want to see anything on her face but a smile to see me. I don't want to hear anything but happiness in her voice when I talk to her.
It's the reason why the last time I went out to see her, I chickened out. I couldnt face her telling me I wasnt wanted around anymore. I watched as she walked to her car and drove past. I hoped that she'd stop but she didnt.
I've broke my promise. It's just one I couldn't keep.
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