ENTRY # 2574
Last weekend – the parts when I was in the city with Bridget and Itzel, and Benny and Netti were fantastic. The six hour drive to and from was filled with a lot of thinking. Most were not happy thoughts. I should have focused on walking around Chinatown with Netti or how Bridget attracts great and fun people like Whomba collects swear words.
Too much time thinking about a poor track record of relationships. I came back sleep deprived and probably on the edge of being sick, so all defenses were down. All of this is just a qualifier for believing that love is for other people and not for me, that I am too old, too –insert adjective–… Unlike past versions of myself, Ive actually asked for help. I know self-perception doesnt jive with reality and that is often the case. The self is a poor judge of what is real, especially in terms of its own being. Instant messaging is an amazing thing. It sits there, a list of friends, acquaintances, available and ready to receive an offering of the mundane and pithy, maybe a wave. I sent out some messages and I wasnt alone. Not as much. Ask and ye shall receive.
Rollercoaster day. Head monkeys finally down for the night. Someone tell me Im pretty. A tweet and a facebook status. And people I know – a little and a lot – responded. And I am still feeling raw and it makes me cry, this time good. But like Jeff told me, feeling anything is better than not at all.