Waste Of Paint

Sunday, March 01, 2015

58 days

It's been 58 days.  My last post was a lot angrier than I expected when I wrote it.  I think mostly I am angry at her for continually making choices that made real intimacy and closeness impossible, and made it so that the only real choice I had for myself was to break up with her.  It still annoys me.  It still hurts, and I still miss her.  I will count to 100, a meaningless insignificant choice, and then things will change, because I will them to.  I will do the show today, hang with friends, and keep moving. 

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