Only when I just get over being nauseous, my stomach rolls over in disgust of myself. Really, Joannie, really?! Good god, I take a good thing and throw it away with both hands! I should be institutionalized for the things I do to sabotage myself.
I don't know what to do anymore. I feel like discarded banana peelings left out on a wet, slushy sidewalk. It's Saturday. Nothing to focus on. Nothing to be driven towards. Thinking about the cello makes me sigh internally, so deep a sigh I can't move for the gravity of it. Insane... And I call myself a musician...
"Whirlwind romance," is what Steffie called it. Indeed... I don't know what to think. Maybe I'm not ready. Maybe I am. Maybe I should let him go while he still has a chance, time to run. I'm so selfish... There could be monuments to the level of hypocrisy in me. I try so hard to belong, to be similar, to run on some one's wavelength. I don't have a wavelength anymore. Maybe this is it, right now. Complete angst. Ugh. I have a headache.
I think about him more and more now, Kenny. That's never a good thing. I wonder if his selfish action was so selfish after all. It was his life, his choice. He didn't give a damn if he hurt the hundred people in his life. He didn't care about being right, nice, or proper... At least now I have someone to talk to when I'm alone in the car.
Yuck, I'm shivering now. Why do I get so cold when I get like this? I can't believe I'm indulging myself this way. No one needs to know what's going through my head. I should be able to snap out of this, get back on track. Nothing's wrong, I'm set, why am I like this? No wonder why they call women melodramatic.
I think I'll go take a nap. I hate the weekends.
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