I wanted to spend time with him. The only reason I wanted to go to the pub at all was to spend time with him. He's the only thing that makes me feel ok sometimes, and I didn't see much of him today, and I wanted to walk with him to the pub instead of just meeting him there. And for some reason that made him angry. And then I regretted wanting to spend the time walking with him.
We walked. We didn't touch the entire time. Our eyes didn't meet. Our footsteps, normally in sync with each other, were awkwardly mismatched. I wanted to crawl into a hole and cry. I didn't. Not then anyway.
I'm back in the lab, alone. Wanted to throw up; realized there's nothing in me except booze and coffee. Wanted to cut; realized I don't have any razors here; remembered my pocketknife.
There's so much about me I hate, I can't stand someone else being angry at me.
New goal: let's see how long I can go on nothing but coffee.