melancholyI was thinking about something I was writing in
wackywallflower's LiveJournal ... pondering a broken heart, and what it is to have your heart broken at 18 versus what it is to have your heart broken in your 30s. Isn't it amazing, that no matter how many ways we grow and mature and learn, that some things seem like they never change. How is it possible that I feel just as inept now as I did when I was 18? And I mean "inept" in a broad, general sense. Not just in terms of heartbreak, but in terms of my ability to talk to people, to strangers ... my ability to support myself ... heck, silly basics like my ability to dress myself. How is it that I feel like the last 15 years have taught me next to nothing? I still make terrible decisions (with regularity). I still give my heart away too easily. I still feel like the same goofy little kid I've always felt like.Epilogue:
I dreamt Daryk and I were on a train, and I was eating a broken candy cane. He was next to the window - to my right - and I was resting my head on his shoulder as he talked. Oh, I felt so safe and so relieved to be sitting there, just listening to him talk ...
