Hi at last Diary,

I've been trying to update for three days, but the server is overloaded or something so it wasn't possible.

Not that anything too exciting has been happening. Actually I'm sliding further and further into depression. Yay! Yeah, you know, just the best thing to write about and what everybody wants to read about.

I was convinced that something positive was going to happen regarding Frank and me, but, you know as time keeps sliding by... and there's just... nothing.

I've realized that once again, I've just been waiting. I guess this is the severe denial stage? And maybe I am finally moving out of it now. And everything looks different, because there's nothing to wait for. I am where I am.

Because I have a confession to make, diary... I succumbed to... PSYCHICS. I never did that before, but as I told you my friend Kelly is a huge fan of them. As a matter of fact, Kelly rarely makes any kind of move in her life without consulting a psychic first. That, I think, is a little crazy, because it gets her to a place where she doesn't trust her own instincts at all.

Anyway, it's not about her anyway, this is how I succumbed, as I was saying. A few weeks ago Kelly and I were walking by a tarot card place, and she wanted to go in; so we did. Of course, okay, I'm thinking fun and games, but once I'm up there, and the lady says, do you have a question, so of course I want to ask about Frank. She says, yes, he's coming back, you will hear from him in June, and you will start to come back together by the end of June.

Well this was more than I could bear, and it made me feel so much better, as you can imagine. But then I thought, well, what if she's just telling me what I want to hear, so I'll like her and maybe send people to her or whatever? I mean, I don't know. Obviously if the prediction doesn't happen, you know the person was no good.

Is that good enough for me? NO WAY. Because I am obsessive-compulsive. And I worry and wait everyday. Waiting MORE. Stretching out time I've already been waiting even more so... more anxiety, more life on hold.

What's my solution? Contact a different psychic. Well, if more than one says the same thing, then, you know, there's a possibility that it could be true.

So yes, Diary, I am a little embarrased to say, that as of this day I have spoken to 3 psychics, 2 card readers, 1 palm reader and 1 medium. I know this is very excessive. I know you may think I'm crazy.

The only one that stank was the palm reader. She was trying to convince me that there was a terrible curse on me, and I should pay her $500 to light a candle and rub a crystal for me to change it. No way. I later found out this is a scam a lot of fakes use.

All the other people said the same thing. That he is coming back. I didn't tell anyone anything that another reader had said. 3 of them said something will be happening in June, and another said 17 weeks. The other ones were pretty vague but affirmed the same answer. 4 of them said something about issues of "an ex" being in the way - Psycho, I assume. One was very specific in describing a lot of things about Frank, it was kind of scary.

So it became pretty addictive. But then I'm just screwing myself more, because I'm waiting, and I get frustrated because nothing is happening. It's already a fair way into June... and I am leaving for the training in just a few days, which will take up the rest of June for me. And so far nothing has happened. My hopes would build up, and I would call to be reassured... it's cheaper than therapy, actually, and makes me feel better. But it's a let-down again and again, because nothing has changed.

So here I am. And maybe it's all unrealistic. Maybe it's true, something will happen, or maybe that's just their job, to give you hope. But I've been doing a terrible number on myself. And this week I decided I'm not going to do any of that quick-call reassurance therapy on myself... I was really going to wait and see if one of the predictions came true.

They've come true about other stuff, but not about Frank.

So I find myself in a place of deep sadness. It really is about the loss of something. I don't feel afraid to be alone, necessarily...I mean, to do things alone- even when Frank and I were together, I took long trips by myself and did things socially, etc., so, it doesn't feel like a clingy attachment thing... it feels like a deeper connection thing. I've never experienced such a heartache in my life. I know it might sound cheesy and I hesitate to write it. I hesitate to write this whole entry, I know I have only a few readers but I feel fear about being judged.

But I realized I had to write this for myself. Because no one really knows the whole true story except you, Diary. I haven't even told many many people that we separated, much less broke up-- I don't know what I was thinking-- that I could cover up everything, all our problems, and my shame, and then maybe we'd get back together soon enough and I wouldn't have to do any explaining to anybody.

And one of the reasons my therapist was getting so mad at me was because she insisted that I wasn't facing reality... that I wasn't letting go... that I was just holding on to hope. I couldn't really tell her that I'd been talking to all these psychics that were helping to feed my hope for me. I just knew that I didn't want to give up my hope. I don't WANT to. I know it's unhealthy and stupid.

I'm just really sad.

And I hide it all the time so I can function.

And I'm tired.

And my heart is broken.

And I know I've got guys knocking on my door day and night, but it doesn't matter.

Think of the person you have one true connection with, the person that you really believe sees you more than anyone else you know.

This is going to sound cheese, but I'm going to say it anyway.

My whole life I've felt homesick. No matter where I go or where I live, I feel like I should be somewhere else, only I don't know where that is.

With Frank, I felt at home.

That's it. Like some dumb thing someone would say in a movie, but it's true.

So now I feel

*embarrassed*

but at least I unloaded one secret: the reason I've been holding onto my hope

and the reason, I guess, why I won't move fully into my grief.

Hope is an interesting thing, isn't it? I don't even know if I have the right motivation. I tell myself it's love but maybe you believe it's something different, like dependence or just an unwillingness to change.

It's hard to tell when you are in the thick of it.

All I can do is be honest.

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