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 n0thingman, and we had a good chat. He, of course, will not get to read this because something horrible happened to his computer and now he can't get online, which was obviously a major bummer.
My second break started out sitting and talking with AFRICArdo, and, when he got up and headed inside, I saw unixd0rk's best friend walking down the sidewalk. I remember once I saw him as he was leaving the store but felt silly screaming out his name just to say hi. Not today. I yelled and yelled and he came over and we had a really good talk (albeit a brief one). It's hard to explain, but something about talking to him was a relief. He's also one of the first people I can think of who noticed I was smoking again and commented on it -- I honestly wasn't even thinking about the fact that I was doing it until he said "so, you're smoking again?"
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, ratphooey? But accepting it and liking it are two very different things. And every day, some new thing seems to crop up to remind me that not so long ago I was really incredibly happy, and to taunt me for failing yet again.
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.