I know right... it's only been a few days and I'm writing again. Well... life is going about the same. I had to go to the doctors the other day. God I hate doctors. Especially when I don't what they are going to do to me. I hate when I doctor grabs my leg and twists it to and impossible angle then asks... does it hurt? No shit, asshole! And now I've gotten to the point where I hate needles. I wish I could have a dollar for every time they take blood. I'd be a multi- millionaire. Bastards! But whatever... I know they are trying to help, but does help have to feel so crappy?
I've also been experiencing temporary insanity lately. There is a guy from my past, who I should stay away from like he's a serial killer and I can't. I want to be around him, I want him to talk to me... but I should hate him all the same. I'll always wonder if things would have been different. But like I always say, people are just people, and I need to learn to deal. Flaws and all. I wonder sometimes if this is my fatal flaw. Like if my heart gets broken again, will it just explode and I'll die. Probably not, but God, I hate that feeling. But @ 27, should I really just throw in the towel? It seems to be the easiest thing to do. Maybe I'm just in love, with being in love. It wouldn't be the first time a girl or woman tempted that fate.
I really think I should finish my book. I'm just scared that if I put myself out like that, I'll just get hurt. And rejection just sucks. What if people hate it? Part of me just wants to say fuck it. Then I can let go of it. I have something to say, and I wouldn't be the first author to be told their heart, soul, and work are crap. In some insane way, I actually think it could build character and strength.
Plus, I'm one of the luckiest people in the world. I have 5 of the best friends in the whole world. They love me, they support me, and they will always be there to catch me if I fall. Love is real, and they are a true testament to that.
Peace and Love,
D
