Long time no talk.
My diet is going fine. I think.
But, other than that, mayhem is officially here.
I find myself in full throttle of pain, confusion, ecstasy and a small thought of driving my cute little Honda civic Coupe in to the wall of PCH at 98 miles per hour at 3:22 am.
It's funny really. Well maybe funny is not the best choice of words.
You see, I have been in more "morally-grey areas" in the past week, than I have in my entire life.
I've lied, I've kissed someone other than whom I wake up next to every morning, I knitted a sweater that I thought was going to be grand. My mother has been loosing her fucking mind, I have learned to love and hate the world I live in within a 24 hour period, and I have come to a conclusion that no, I am not a simple girl who makes things complicated. I am a VERY complicated girl, who know how to make the world around her spin in the opposite direction.
So now, as I sit here babbling my fingers away to total strangers I come to the realization that, in fact, I quite enjoy writing. My writing is atrocious to say the least, however it makes me very very happy. And it lets me focus at one thing at a time.
So this all started ages ago, even when I was single. I love to read the personal ads on Craigslist. I don't know how it came about. But I feel like I get to over hear little conversations, to eaves-drop on people and never actually meet them. It's a hobby of sorts. Or at least that's what it's become.
So one night I was sitting home, X was out of the house, and I decided to post my own sort of " ad"
After some of the creeps and shallow individuals were sorted through, as well as several spam emails from " women's toy company's"
There were actually several candidates that were quite charming.
And now, secretive emails, long thoughts about other men, ideas about foreign countries all started to ponder within my head.
To be fair, I should have know this was coming for quite some time now.
X was depressed, so was I.
I got better, and he was getting worse. I was doing everything in my power to help him. Yet nothing worked. And as I was loosing hope, I understood, that he and I were never meant to be together. Well maybe together, but as friends, nothing less, nothing more.
He was now being prescribed the medication that he's been needing for years, and although he was getting better at the speed of light, it didn't change the way I felt.
In any case, back to the story.
I am I woman/girl of passion. I am hot blooded, I love a good laugh, good food, good wine and most of all great company.
And before I start sobbing again. I'll stop writing. I'm still getting myself together. I will write all this, because if one person can benefit from anything I'd write, that would be plenty.
Till next time.
Over and Out.
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