Body Blow by Body Blow?
This is going to be a hard couple of weeks. Unsurprising, because when something like this happens the interim always is. Except for late at night my mind can ice itself down, all frozen stone, but my concentration and motivation are still not good. Some assignments that should be relatively easy for school are a struggle.
At night I feel bereft.
I have decisions to make: do I give notice? How can I afford everything?
Spring is coming hard. Buds are opening. I'd like to go for a bike ride and be happy. I'd like to hole up alone in my house and not see anyone except for the folks at school. People take care of me sometimes.
Right now, this moment, I wish I didn't love anyone.
Angus keeps talking about how he screwed up so badly I can't forgive him, or something. At one point I had enough energy to try to tell him that wasn't the point, that I could forgive him anything if he could just godfuckingdamn take the fuck care of himself, if he could work even half as hard to make his life a decent place for him to live as he did at bearing misery. He doesn't understand.
He's angry at me as well, understandably.
The world would be a better place if fewer people bore their misery well. Self-sacrifice is pointed in the wrong directions. It should be used to make things better, not to maintain a bad status quo.
The first green leaves are out on my apple trees on the porch. Enough years of love and it will produce fruit for me. What do you say to that?
I haven't yet begun to feel like a failure for this. I haven't given myself time to think. Life has helped me not to think.
Well. Nothing more to say right now.
At night I feel bereft.
I have decisions to make: do I give notice? How can I afford everything?
Spring is coming hard. Buds are opening. I'd like to go for a bike ride and be happy. I'd like to hole up alone in my house and not see anyone except for the folks at school. People take care of me sometimes.
Right now, this moment, I wish I didn't love anyone.
Angus keeps talking about how he screwed up so badly I can't forgive him, or something. At one point I had enough energy to try to tell him that wasn't the point, that I could forgive him anything if he could just godfuckingdamn take the fuck care of himself, if he could work even half as hard to make his life a decent place for him to live as he did at bearing misery. He doesn't understand.
He's angry at me as well, understandably.
The world would be a better place if fewer people bore their misery well. Self-sacrifice is pointed in the wrong directions. It should be used to make things better, not to maintain a bad status quo.
The first green leaves are out on my apple trees on the porch. Enough years of love and it will produce fruit for me. What do you say to that?
I haven't yet begun to feel like a failure for this. I haven't given myself time to think. Life has helped me not to think.
Well. Nothing more to say right now.