Though I'm not a crying, heaving, psychotic mess anymore, my emotions still run the gamut from grudging acceptance to fits of disbelief that I can only liken to getting punched in the lungs. Mostly, I'm stuck on how I can be told that those moments that have changed my life forever were important and meaningful, and then be ignored so totally and completely. Hurt abounds. Life is cruel.
My mantra throughout has been that I don't want to become cynical and bitter, because my biggest fear is that I'll turn into that thing that I don't understand: unbending and without forgiveness. It's so easy to let hate take over. It's too easy to let the mind go insane. The clear realization is that the love I still feel, the love that I think that I have, is actually for someone else from hazy memory, and any desperate acts of trying to connect with that person now is simply ludicrous and asking for my heart to get trampled over and over again.
So, while my recent days have been filled with puppies and work and studying and sometimes fantastic failures of getting back out into the world to be a normal person, this internal struggle is still raging on, and there are some days I just want to make a bunch of bad decisions and then go out with a bang.