normally, i’m all for self-pity. like, i like feeling sorry for myself. this time, i really don’t want to. i really don’t want to be in this situation.

i think it’s a bigger tragedy when you’re so into someone, or if you’ve found someone you think is absolutely perfect, only to have the person taken away by circumstances, rather than if you were just plain repulsive and had no one to begin with. at that point — and at this stage of self-pitying — that makes me a lot worse off than the troll under the bridge.

family obligations exist, my age restricts. i ought to just pack off and go, in order to cling to something i’ve found that i really never thought i would. or could. and now i watch, in slow motion, the crash, the crunch, and finally the splatter after.

“no, it’s not forever,”
“come join me as soon as you can,”
“why can’t you join me?”
“i want to have something forever.”

don’t talk about forever though, because on a more sagely level i feel it’s just impossible to predict anything. and on a typically childish level, i feel it jinxes it. yes, it does. oggledy boogledy.

talking to a best friend yesterday, she said we both have abandonment issues. she conveniently cites her parents’ divorce, pointing out that i have no good goddamned reason to have the same issue. like she owns them. bah.

but i do have them, and i really don’t know why. when i was a kid, i used to convince myself that my parents were a part of a big conspiracy to abandon me whenever they left me to watch a table in a self-service cafe (like delifrance, or fast food joint). i’d usually run to them at the counter to ensure that they were still around. more like in triumph, really, like, “ah HA! I SEE YOU.”

even knowing i’d have to endure some sort of chiding for losing the table. hey, it was worth it. peace of mind over anything else, i say!

peace of mind… yeah, i just want peace of mind.