And so it goes-
No, I'm flipping no switches... that's been done for me (and no I'm not talking about anything in the present). I have, however, become more solid in a resolve to be somewhat bitter- the pieces heal back with scar-tissue, and words seem hollow and meaningless somehow. Why should I have believed there would be any further connection when it's been made so clear that this is not the case, other than by accident? Well, guess what? Eventually even the scars will get smaller and there might be someone out there who is gentle and patient enough to wait for me to make room. I'm doing the best I can, and meanwhile these thoughts can fuck off.