Maybe There's a Little Insight in Here.

I just hit up my livejournal. I don't post there anymore but I do go back to check on the people on my friends list. And some people not on my friends list, but that I still know and love. To make sure that they are at least alive.
I read entries by two girls who are almost complete opposites, in the opposite ends of a situation. Both pulled on my heart in ways that I didn't expect because both girls meant/mean a lot to me.
And I realized that there is a lot going wrong in my life right now. There could be more, but things aren't right. Kyle and I are having problems. Big problems. The way Kyle refuses to say what's going on with him to my face, how he equivocates, only makes them seem bigger. I don't actually know what kind of problems we are having because he won't come out and say it. Instead, he just insists that there's something that needs to be fixed. I'm in the dark and that's probably my own fault. I might be pregnant on top of that. It's highly (HIGHLY) unlikely, but I've been on the iron pills for two days now and no period in sight. Just rusty discharge like I've been having since my mystery middle of the cycle period.
If I'm pregnant, things will explode. Because I am not emotionally capable of having an abortion. I just can't do it. And Kenny Sunshine made me a mixtape that I can't stop listening to. It's full of love songs and promises. Sometimes it makes me cry because I know what I need, and I know what I want, and they are not the same thing. So I stick with what I need, because I know it will make me happier in the end. I know that it's what will make me happy right now. But the guilt is still there, lingering like the scent of indian food that still fills the apartment. My hormones are messed up anyways, regardless of why they're that way.
...A lot of things are wrong.
But, I turned my zine in to sell. And tonight, Danni and I made a giant lesbian pride poster to creep out her possible new roommate. And we made cornbread. I'm sleeping here tonight because she's been afraid in her apartment alone. I redyed my hair.

I feel right in the middle of those two girls. Not in that I'm not giddily happy and not miserable but somewhere in between, but because I go back and forth. Both situations are breaking my heart right now. My own is too.
He said he would pick me up from the train station tomorrow. But now he isn't answering his phone. How am I supposed to tell him I finally worked up the courage to give my zine to Quimby's to sell?