The Ramblings of a Depressed Girl

I sit here.
Only hearing the wind and the rush of cars outside my window and the scratching of my pen as I write. I feel the soft, warm fabric of my favourite blanket that is usually draped over the couch. It's cold in my living room, probably drafts from the balcony door and the windows. Makes it the coldest room in the house.
I don't know what is going on in my head. Everything feels very crowded and loud despite the silence.
It's been a long day, even though all I've done is sleep and not leave the house. I always feel worse when I don't go outside but today I just wasn't feeling it. We just wanted to stay in and watch movies after he finished his very early shift at work.
It's strange. When he's at work and I'm home alone I get by pretty fine, I tidy, maybe watch some RuPaul and I wait for him to come home. But, like now, when he's in bed, I feel so alone. I don't know if it's because I know he's here and not with me. I guess I just miss his attention, but I need to let him sleep.
I envy how easily he sleeps. I swear if we stop talking for more than five minutes while we're in bed he is out like a light. I do love watching him sleep, I don't mean to sound creepy, he's just so peaceful and he makes such adorable faces and noises.
We're that cute couple that makes you wanna puke.
Best friends for 4 years and together for coming up 7 months and we've moved in together. How cliche.
The only reason why we moved in so fast was because of the fall out with mum. I don't want to talk about that though.
He's my rock, he was there for me during my last break up (was only with the guy 9 months but man I was deluded by him) and I helped him through his (almost 3 years with a girl he pined after for 5 years while they were at school, I was her friend too) I guess we were each others rocks, everyone saw us getting together before we even did. I mean I guess we always knew but we both brushed off the flirty comments with each other as jokes...

I wonder if I'll ever let him read this. My little black book of my feelings and my past. The tales of every boyfriend I've had and how much I was so in love with them, knowing little about how they would then cheat or emotionally and mentally abuse me and use me. Christ I hate my younger self for thinking I knew it all. Guy #3 one was the love of my life, but then again guys #1 and #2 were too. They all royally fucked me up and he has always dealt with the broken pieces. He's the one that would hold me while I cried. The one who would take my phone when I was piss drunk so I didn't call the ex. The one who always believed I could pick myself back up no matter how far down I was.
Always him.
And he was in front of my face the whole time.