12 Nisan 2015, Pazar
saat: 01:33
“A good night sleep, or a ten minute bawl, or a pint of chocolate ice cream, or all three together, is good medicine.” (Ray Bradbury, Dandelion Wine)
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My deadline for this next chapter is looming, so naturally I feel the best use of my day is to spend all day in bed, sleeping, reading/listening to novels, designing new looks on covet, and texting my friends -basically doing anything but writing.
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M. took me to the PT gathering last night, and said some interesting stuff on the way back. I might have led the conversation on, unintentionally, because I needed to talk about what happened with you-know-who (it still bothers me, and the fact that it bothers me is even more bothersome). Thankfully, he apologized later today for what he said, but I didn't text him back as I didn't know what to say next.
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Apparently, my "quick yank band-aid" approach (i.e. away to dust myself off in private, make sure all the parts still work and move on) does not always work the way it's supposed to. For me, it's been always like friends will be friends, and the exes will be distant memories. (I actually remember C., in our very last conversation, making a joke about how he figured me for the post-breakup stalking type. I was surprised to hear it but quick to correct him, “You will never see or hear from me again”. And I meant it. To be perfectly honest, I was sparing myself the stress. I actually cared about him, so, all the more reason to never see him again.) Yet, now that it's all said and done, I'm starting to realize that it’s always a little harder to gain that closure with yourself, forcing you to face your own little personal demons. I thought I had squashed them, made peace with them, and even made up for them with mature good deeds in the years that followed. But, if last night proved anything to me, it’s that those little bad decisions, those people you let affect your emotional stability — they’re always going to be there.
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I feel like I have completely lost control of my journal. I don’t even know what’s on here, it couldn’t be a bigger mess of feelings, there is no coordination of entries, quotes and ramblings whatsoever. It’s just a huge pile of insane stuff.
Basically, it finally matches what my bedroom looks like.
