and i will dig my own grave...

4:48am:

He's telling her now. In the room down the corridor, they are talking about how he and I fucked when she went back home overnight. She almost caught us at it tonight: we had enough time for me to get my shirt on, and then he opened the door to see her, makeup running, asking about nothing. She looked like a tiny child. I think I've just broken someone.

What makes me so disappointed in myself is that nothing good can come of this. It's not like we can salvage anything from the wreckage here: it's going to annihilate this household, and there's no way we can start anything in the same house as her. We should have stopped ourselves, we should have tried to think beyond ourselves. But I know we wouldn't have stopped until we were caught anyway.

It was entirely free of recrimination the first time. Okay, we were drunk, but the morning after we woke up wanting to fuck. And that was sin, because we had no excuses anymore. And then all those nights I've waited up for him, so we could watch something together or fight or talk or do anything that gives us an excuse to get close to one another and breathe out desire. But there was never guilt until I thought about her.

On Thursday, she got drunk. Very drunk. She kissed me, she cried about her family life, she cried about the fact she doesn't think he likes her or she likes him, she cried about the fact she still thinks I hate her for going out with my ex. It was so painful: she was begging me not to hate her in the morning, and now I want to do the same thing. And after she told me all that, after she was asleep, I went downstairs and made out with her boyfriend.

I am such a rat it's not even true.

All I've done with this is scorch a lot of bridges. All I've done is kill my name and everything associated with it. I'm not going to pretend that she was my best friend, but she was a laugh, she and I went girly shopping and laughed together, we drank sloe gin and lemonade and ordered pizza a gazillion times together. And I didn't know, I swear to god, I didn't know that this was under the surface. I thought I'd killed my affection for him long ago, but somehow neither of us escaped. It was subliminated, not destroyed. And now it will have to be repressed again, because there's no way this can turn into anything. You can't create something new from ashes.

I never wanted to be this person.