I Thought I Was Through With You...

I couldn't write for forever and I feel horrible about it. Writing has been such a release for me but I came to a point recently where I just couldn't do it. I've been super depressed, partly because I'm an ungrateful bitch, but mostly because I'm human. I tore my ACL and meniscus, blah blah. I got knee surgery last month and can't walk until next month without the help of torture devices otherwise known as crutches. My whole life has been altered temporarily. I had to move-in with my friend because her apt has an advantage over mine: an elevator. I have to take a frickin bus to work and I'm in pain every single day. It could be worse hence my ungratefulness, so I'll leave my complaining within this first paragraph.

Another part of my faux depression is my over-consuming blog topic. I'm sick of writing about this same particular person, whom I've now dubbed "Worm Food," which isn't really nice because he's not dead. Di Fact: "Worm Food" is dirt mixed with the decaying body of the deceased. Anyway, as much as I try to convince myself, the idea of him isn't dead either. Sometimes you don't realize how big of an affect someone has in your life, especially when they are no longer a part of it. I don't know if the "dead" guy has this affect because of who he was, or because of who I am. Is it me???

Today I shed a little tear (or several, whatever) because I was upset that attachments aren't yet broken and that memories aren't less emotional. Some things are out of our control, but for someone like me who strives for as much control as possible over my thoughts and life, it's difficult to feel things I honestly just don't want to feel anymore. Frustration is what brought those tears, nothing to do with WF (<--- a lie).

To curb my feelings of woe, I turned on SATC because Carrie is a God. HBO on Demand is thee shit!

Just when I thought it was over, came in the harsh reality that I just may need more time. Worm Food may not be the problem; there actually may not be a problem at all and what I feel is supposed to be felt. Moving on and letting go is a process. Just like recovering from my knee surgery, I have to take this other shit one day at a time.