ch-ch-ch--
and it's like this: my body is rebelling against the purposeful changes I'm making to accompany the natural ones. My middle-voice, running-out-of-breath vibrato has snuck back in after months of thwarting it. I try to write journal entries that are vulnerable and meaningful and the effort to do so kills the genuine openness. There's something so artificial about going into something with the intent of being honest and open because then the honesty is constructed and not urgent or fresh or...
I broke up with Molly. I needed to, and I'm not going to lie and deny this overwhelming sense of relief. I feel good about making a difficult choice; I feel horrible about hurting my best friend. I don't really know what else to say about this; it's too personal for this space. I just really want Molly to be okay, and for me to be okay, and this was a purposeful change I needed to make.
I want to change my livejournal name.
I just need to let go, let my voice be what it is, let my writing be what it is even if it is too chatty or whatever its flaws are.
I broke up with Molly. I needed to, and I'm not going to lie and deny this overwhelming sense of relief. I feel good about making a difficult choice; I feel horrible about hurting my best friend. I don't really know what else to say about this; it's too personal for this space. I just really want Molly to be okay, and for me to be okay, and this was a purposeful change I needed to make.
I want to change my livejournal name.
I just need to let go, let my voice be what it is, let my writing be what it is even if it is too chatty or whatever its flaws are.