Thirty-Seven
Today was an emotional day, either because it was the day the patch came off and my hormones are crazy. Maybe I just couldn't keep my guard up well.
I was nervous going into seminar in my Geomorphology class but I kind of slayed it. Me and this other grad student really fed off of each other and gave good debate. We actually had to be told to let the rest of the group speak... to which they had nothing to say. Amateurs, just kidding, kind of.
Read an article that made me cry about a woman recovering from a break up. How she would pass their spots, hear their songs, but eventually it didn't hurt so bad. How the only thing she wanted was the opposite of silence. But it never happened. The scabs stopped oozing. The silence negated everything that ever was. It was sad and hopeful in a way that someone recovering from tragedy usually is.
I wanted to bring the mementos over with a note about how the reminders kept picking at my scabs. A box of broken promises and memories that are too bitter sweet to swallow. I'm trying to not be emotionally driven though.
I saw strawberry twizzlers while standing in line at the grocery store. They were the peel and eat kind. I heard someone talking about mocha. I saw a poster for Red Hot Chili Peppers and my decision to not be emotionally driven was hard to stick to. So what do I do? I feel it. I put my headphones in. Positive thinking. Remember the good times right? That's what sucks about this is because the good times are what hurt. If the whole thing sucked then I'd be happy it was over. Happy to move on, happy to get it over with.
A speed bump at home. I wanted to run but I didn't. Very overwhelmed but I'm an adult right? Took the boys to the park instead. I'm grateful that by focusing on their joy and their happiness I can find a moment of stability.
Tomorrow will be better and the scab will be a scab once more.
I was nervous going into seminar in my Geomorphology class but I kind of slayed it. Me and this other grad student really fed off of each other and gave good debate. We actually had to be told to let the rest of the group speak... to which they had nothing to say. Amateurs, just kidding, kind of.
Read an article that made me cry about a woman recovering from a break up. How she would pass their spots, hear their songs, but eventually it didn't hurt so bad. How the only thing she wanted was the opposite of silence. But it never happened. The scabs stopped oozing. The silence negated everything that ever was. It was sad and hopeful in a way that someone recovering from tragedy usually is.
I wanted to bring the mementos over with a note about how the reminders kept picking at my scabs. A box of broken promises and memories that are too bitter sweet to swallow. I'm trying to not be emotionally driven though.
I saw strawberry twizzlers while standing in line at the grocery store. They were the peel and eat kind. I heard someone talking about mocha. I saw a poster for Red Hot Chili Peppers and my decision to not be emotionally driven was hard to stick to. So what do I do? I feel it. I put my headphones in. Positive thinking. Remember the good times right? That's what sucks about this is because the good times are what hurt. If the whole thing sucked then I'd be happy it was over. Happy to move on, happy to get it over with.
A speed bump at home. I wanted to run but I didn't. Very overwhelmed but I'm an adult right? Took the boys to the park instead. I'm grateful that by focusing on their joy and their happiness I can find a moment of stability.
Tomorrow will be better and the scab will be a scab once more.
