all i ever wanted

all i have by beth nielsen chapman

disintegrated

perhaps not so slow. looks like it's over -- again.

last thoughts

i think this about says it all for now (listen to the refrain for my reality):
My Immortal

disintegration

it's beginning again . . . the slow death of a relationship. i don't know where it will end, but i do know it won't be the same. so much for happily ever after.

hurt

[disclaimer: written under the influence of two ambien at 2:54 a.m.]

I thought I had reached the point where these things didn't happen anymore. No more perceived rejections from the simplest and likely most benign of gestures. No more wounded hearts at cold shoulders turned away to me by virtual strangers. No more self-flagellation and self-pity because I am not more of this or less of that. No regretting the chasm of age that seems to be growing with each moment. But my heart is fragile still and my skin paper thin. And I just want to weep until sweet sleep claims me again.

doubt

I'm back in that place again. That place where all seems dark and bleak. The place where no light seems to penetrate, and I grasp and stumble about through days that seem mostly aimless and pointless. Most of all it is a place where I look around and question much of what I've experienced based on what I see in contrast. I see people doing fulfilling work and I question if I've ever known anything but the silliness, strife and pettiness that seems to be part of my daily endeavors. I see the expression of love of the purest kind, and I wonder if my heart has ever or will ever know the same. I see people embraced for what they contribute to life and can't help but think how I've always felt so marginalized. So much seems broken around me and within me. I do know that I've been to this place before and managed to emerge, I think, stronger and better. But who can say?

breathe

[click on the statements]
how i want to feel about love

how i feel about love

how i fear i'm destined to feel about love -- again

not a good time