I don’t know what sick part of me likes to look up my exes and fantasize about if I had made it work with them. It doesn’t happen with the ones I had several years with, most of them I’m glad to be rid of. It’s the ones that I dated for a few weeks, a few months at most. The ones that showed so much promise. They’re amazing people that for whatever reason it just didn’t work out with. I wonder if my life would be different if I had worked it out…. then I wonder what the point is….
I’m missing a deadline as I type this. It’s agonizing failure that I’m slowly against my will getting used to. Maybe it won’t have consequences, maybe it will…. I couldn’t have even done anything about this dang one. Last week I managed it, this week…. after three exams in four days I just can’t. My wits are worn down, I flubbed two out of three of the tests, still waiting on grades. I’m lonely…. it’s a small little hole I’ve managed to dig myself, no idea how to get out apart from waiting….
Everyone says the stuff will go away, but I’m not going to stop being busy until either I have a substantial amount of money or I’m dead. Taking bets on which one (hint, I’m going to die before I get to stop or rest.)
It seems like there should be some bright side. All I can think about is this stupid movie quote: “There’s one bright side to this; one day you’re going to die. When you end up in hell, at least it will be a step up from this place.”