sorry, but not like it matters
I know I haven't updated at all.
I just don't want to address some stuff right now.
But... My status thing? Yeah, it's not "complicated" after all.
I've always been alone.
Even when he gave me the most priceless thing he could-his time-it was never complicated at all, really.
I'm single.
Alone.
And that's how it's been, even when I first met Thomas.
He still haunts me.
Tonight, even, I was reminded of him when Scott brought up Akira Kurosawa's Ran.
I'll never be able to escape Thomas, nor he me; we're unforgettable, for the best and worst reasons.
But, in black and white, in simple terms, I am single. I am alone.
Like the ring I wear isn't a constant reminder.
And everyone is making the biggest fucking point about it.
Wanting me to define relationships with words I am too afraid to use.
Too afraid, because I don't want to be irrational and jump to conclusions with certain words.
But I am your queen of shoot-self-in-foot-fuckery. I do it to see if anyone will help me clean up the blood; if they can handle that type of self-destruction, it's all roses and gumdrops from there, babycakes.
I'll write about Conan/finish the post later. It's hard-going, writing about something riddled with loneliness, trying to be upbeat about the only good part.
I just don't want to address some stuff right now.
But... My status thing? Yeah, it's not "complicated" after all.
I've always been alone.
Even when he gave me the most priceless thing he could-his time-it was never complicated at all, really.
I'm single.
Alone.
And that's how it's been, even when I first met Thomas.
He still haunts me.
Tonight, even, I was reminded of him when Scott brought up Akira Kurosawa's Ran.
I'll never be able to escape Thomas, nor he me; we're unforgettable, for the best and worst reasons.
But, in black and white, in simple terms, I am single. I am alone.
Like the ring I wear isn't a constant reminder.
And everyone is making the biggest fucking point about it.
Wanting me to define relationships with words I am too afraid to use.
Too afraid, because I don't want to be irrational and jump to conclusions with certain words.
But I am your queen of shoot-self-in-foot-fuckery. I do it to see if anyone will help me clean up the blood; if they can handle that type of self-destruction, it's all roses and gumdrops from there, babycakes.
I'll write about Conan/finish the post later. It's hard-going, writing about something riddled with loneliness, trying to be upbeat about the only good part.