It's long past my bedtime on a very long night. Maybe it was the weather. Dreary overcast skies foretold all day of snow. I sat sipping tea on my sofa longing for things I don't have, and missing people I never see. Before you feel sorry for me, this was more constructive than your typical hollow sadness. This was more like a wistful memorial.
My therapist tells me that a piece of me has died.
Today, I spent the crawling hours putting her to rest.
I have gone through many changes, lately. I've quit my job, started some new ventures, and am about to start a new internship next week. I am also dealing with a recent break-up.
After the break-up, I bought an obscenely expensive ridiculously large desktop computer to fill the void. (Ladies and gentlemen, I am now the proud (single) owner of a brand new iMac.) I was reluctantly excited. I've been pseudo-happily screwing around with it all week. Instead of doing my homework, I've been tinkering with photos, experimenting with documents, and just generally fucking around. But today I was just too tired. I guess my exhausted brain just needed a break from all the change.
I went to my room where I've fired up my ancient laptop, which is graciously receiving its wireless internet signal from my iMac's built-in wireless router. Something about having this thing on again makes me feel like maybe sleep is possible; like maybe not everything has changed.
Thank God for that.
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