So life is kind of crappy; I can deal. I can make lemonade from lemons.
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I have that sinking feeling in my stomach again. Today is day two of being off medication for the first time since mid-October. You may think that this is all psychological, that I am experiencing pain, because I accept that I will have pain because I am not on medication anymore, but it is not that. The pain that is reverberating itself through my abdomen is indeed genuine and slightly nauseating. It burns when I breathe, and there are notions of my entire intestinal track tying itself into an infinite number of knots. Okay, pain...owww.
Alas, the effervescent pain in my heart may be greater. I feel like a failure at life. Everytime a glimmer of hope resurfaces, it is merely an illusion, a mirage. The last-known vestibule of hope has all but disappated.
I contemplate my future as I simultaneously recount my past. Daniel - I have no idea what happened there. Over the late winter and all throughout spring last year, we were talking, and he was begging me to come back to New York. Frequently, we questioned each other as to if we were still in love, and we admitted that we were. Again, I have to ponder if I really was, but in this situation, I believe that feeling is not a farce.
I was unable to make it to New York until June, and when I was in his house, sitting in his kitchen with his parents, as I have been doing for the past twenty years, he refused to come home for no reason at all. I spoke to him the day before I left Florida. When I got back, he gave me some bullshit story about a girlfriend. Overnight, I was thrown in the trash. I thought we were going to get back together again. I even held out hopes that after the years of talking about marriage, we were going to get engaged for real this time.
Who was I kidding. I am just the same old me, unloveable, disgustin old Ashleigh...Aren't I?
And then I start to think about Danny sometimes, but rarely. Yes, as I told you the other day, I have been over you for a very long time. The only thing that continuously runs through my mind is the thought, "Were we ever in love?" Or were they simply words we felt obligated to say?
As I analyze these words, it again makes me believe that I am wholly unloveable...no, take it a step down - I am wholly unlikeable.
But maybe that's just me, and if it is, I don't want to be me anymore.
To be continued...
Also posted in Livejournal.