DISCLAIMER: If you don't currently (or don't want to) feel sad/angry/depressed, please skip this and patiently await post #300, b/c this shit hurts [via a lot].

Specifically, the anxiety-inducing kind. The kind where you wonder if someone you gave a little piece of yourself to still exists(?). This feeling is littered with questions like 'is that person dead?', 'does that person think about me as much as I think that I think about them?', 'did that person start cutting themselves/become a prostitute/start taking psychologically-debilitating anti-depression medication because of me?'. The answer to all of these questions is no, but that doesn't stop the onset of sudden, intense, ribcage-centric claustrophobia, where your heart wishes it had a mile radius to fucking flop around in, instead of being stuck in your tiny, anxiety-stricken chest cavity. Shit hurts (a lot).

In spite of the fact that this 'emotion' doesn't hurt (at all), it is a plateau that inevitably cascades into a deep, dark place that sucks balls called 'The Valley of Kind Of Wishing I DID Care'. Because, once there, your head dashes from idea to idea in search of something you want to do, but then you don't want to do anything, so you resort to patterns of unproductive habitual actions, like TV, and cleaning*, and scouring the internet for things that'll make you giggle. When actually, quite suddenly, you realize (Today,) you just want to be held, tightly, by pretty much anyone, but specifically one person, and worst of all, you want it to be forever. (FML.)

*'a clean house is a sign of an unfulfilled life(time of domestic slavery)'

Hate feels AMAZING. It feels soooooo good to hate shit. Because once you get into the flow of hating something you can never find enough reasons to just rip it apart. And as long as that outlet is open, you can just ramble and ramble and ramble and bitch and moan and curse until your teeth and tongue and inner ear can't stand to listen to your bullshit anymore. And then suddenly...

You feel like the worst fucking homo sapien in the world, for feeling such an intense emotion about someone/thing. And there are 7 billion people on the planet. And you're the worst of all of them. And it hurts (a lot).

It's not until after guilt that anybody ever feels love. And then that just makes you feel more guilty. 'Why couldn't I have loved the person before I cornered them? "For who they are", before I let them in and made them an accessory to my imperfect and grief-stricken existence?? Who the fuck am I to even pretend to love someone???'. And that's when it hits you, that it doesn't matter, because it's love, and love is all that matters, and you're a massive douchebitch because you can't stop now that you've started (see 'GUILT'). And it feels (really, really) fantastic. Yay. Awesome. So when were you planning on dumping me? Tuesday? Oh, great! I'm free all day Tuesday!

Going to go chuckle myself to sleep now.




  1. I'm totally with you on most of these.

  2. a dirty house is the sign of a lemon wife.