A Confession

There is a certain amount of obligation one feels after a while to appear "Totally ok." You get hurt enough, you start to pretend that it doesn't hurt anymore so as not to appear weak, or inadequate, or, well, fucking crazy.

After the breakup I made up my mind that I was going to be fine and this was not going to "upset me" as breakups have in the past. For if it does, upset me, that means that I've picked wrong, again, and therefore, failed. And then everyone sees my failure and then starts to "worry" and be "concerned" which makes me feel like an even bigger nutcase. Not that I don't completely and totally appreciate the care and love of my friends... it's that "we're worried" look that worries me.

So, for the past 3 months, I've internalized it all, and well, the official mourning has started...or started right around New Years.

And now I have to sit in it. And try and remember the strong woman who was in that relationship in the first place. Who fought for it, who worked it, and who did her best to remain herself and to not be trapped by someone else's whims.

So, I start now.

Also, almost none of my pictures from my trip turned out so now I just want to take a bat to someone's fucking head.

That is all.