It's scary sometimes to be honest with oneself, but being honest with myself is also the closest I've ever been to maturity or adulthood or whatever. So lets take a deep breath and go under.
I've spent the last few months trying to reconcile things with my exboyfriend, who, I still love, but in what capacity and under what definitions, I do not know. What an incredibly hurtful and painful experience. One where I hurt him, myself, and he, the same. The fact that neither of are innocent has made the distribution of blame and sympathy a difficult situation. I feel both guilty and victimized.
I can feel this discomfort and overall sadness in my body, not quite located at the heart but perhaps slightly behind it. Not quite about heartbreak or love, but perhaps viewing this whole situation as a critique of who we are. Of thoughts about purity and perfection and goals and wants...spending years finding them and having them ripped from your throat by someone you love or maybe even yourself. Falling short of the expectations you set for yourself and set for you by others and still being loved. Finally getting to where you want to be and rejecting love...
The day after I catch the stomach flu I feel drained from everything I lost the day before. I'd like to go to sleep now.
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