lonely

In a crowd, with my friends, at work, with the grands, dancing with the ladies on a madcap fraturday, always the pit trap in my heart will not stay closed.

It doesn't mean that I'm unhappy, or that I don't laugh and enjoy a good joke. It doesn't mean that I don't have a great time with my friends. It doesn't mean that I mope around in silence reading trashy romance novels and scarfing down bon bons (though I have considered it).

It means that without you here to touch and taste and smell I am constantly sidestepping, going around, trying to bridge, a you shaped hole in my foundation with whatever is closest to hand. Inexplicable tears well unwonted and unpredictably, that little catch - hu uh - in my throat stops my breath, and the selfsabotage demon will exploit any means of escape from reality.

Tippitty toeing around the edge is exhausting, but I must be ever so careful because the pit is dark and cold and slimy and almost impossible to escape. Got the Tshirt. It's why I promised myself I wouldn't ever go here again.

Apparently heart connections are not a choice thing.

You either grab the reins and hold on or let them fall and always wonder what might have been.

My dad said what he regrets the most is that he has regrets.

91 days down and 14 sleeps to go.

it's a fucking eternity boo.