Among other things, today was AFRICArdo's last day. When I arrived I gave him the world's longest hug -- felt like I hadn't seen him in ages -- and he said "that's nice, but what's wrong?" You gotta love AFRICArdo, man.
My first break I called
My second break started out sitting and talking with AFRICArdo, and, when he got up and headed inside, I saw
But he was gone just as quickly as he'd arrived, and I was left to my own devices once again. I would say that pretty much the majority of the day was spent on autopilot. Feh.
Then home again, but first stopping off to get more smokes. I don't know what the fuck I'm doing. And I had to fight the urge to just keep driving ... to head out to the highway, hit the open road, not look back until I was good and lost.
I'm beginning to think that there's something seriously wrong with me for taking this all so hard. It's been nearly a week now. Shouldn't I be my bitchy, lovable self again by now? Shouldn't this ache have left me? True, it's changed, it's ... I'm at a loss for the right words. It's becoming more of my reality ... "Acceptance," right,
And as time goes on, April 24th looms larger and larger on the horizon, reminding me of all of the pieces of me that were lost forever. I wonder who I would have become, had that never happened. I wonder if I would have been happier, stronger. It seems like I used to stand up for myself a lot more than I do now. But maybe not. My teenage self was the recipient of any number of bullies, date rapists, and just general assholes. Man, but I was stupid. I'm still stupid, I'll grant you, but in different ways. I suppose whichever way you slice it, I've always and forever been too trusting.