Disclaimer: Sorry for the whiny, not-so-discrete messages. I literally only come here to rant semi publicly (because I don't really believe that people follow this anymore and my hand hurts when I rant furiously in my diary). Love ya.
I'm over it. And I know I say I'm over it just to pretend that I don't care, but I really am mostly over it. Its like a healed wound. It doesn't hurt anymore, but the scar does remind me of how much it sucked. And I don't necessarily want to hang out on the playground where I fell of the swing for the foreseeable future.
Its funny, because I say all this, and I feel all these things, but I could never shut you out. If you message me (which is sparse compared to what used to be our every day conversations months ago), I will respond. If you invite us all to hang out and I don't have a legitimate excuse, I will go. It's that crossroad between cutting you out so I can heal and refresh but risk disconnecting completely, or drastically decreasing exposure but still maintaining some contact so you know I'm alive. Meh. Way to go and make things complicated.
Its a whole lot of something about nothing. Thats really what it means. If I had to legitimately describe the situation to someone, they'd probably laugh in my face. Its stupid and I need to be over it. I need to know that I can legitimately love someone. I need to know that its in my cards. I need to know that I can trust myself to recognize it when it comes, because right now, I'm not so sure.
So there.
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