Today they kept laughing at me, and I'd catch the tail end of the conversations.
Most certainly, Klondike bar. "What on earth?" I reasoned that maybe it was a fat joke, but it didn't make sense that they would find it so funny isle after isle. . . and now. . . and now I think. . .
Maybe he was hitting on me. Duh.
Oh well, they're all so nice I wouldn't even care if they did make credulous jokes about me to my face. I wouldn't think they'd mean it, we're like, HA, family. And if he was hitting on me? Who cares? I don't. They should think I'm stupid for not catching on, I mean, seriously. [/eyeroll]
I met a personal sort of achievement, no not really. Personal recognition. Spoke with her flesh and blood, didn't feel my heart pounding or my head spinning, no pang of guilt in the bars of my chest.
Although I will admit, it's mostly the scent of her that drives me crazy, but I don't think it matters much anymore. Those lovely feelings no longer create sad things in me, just. . . lovely feelings. And empty feelings. Lovely, empty feelings.
. . .Gah, I should be proud that I've come so far. I just can't help but want the same for. . .
NO! No. Not going there. I can't wish for it without owning guilt, so I will bury those wishes and hope for the best.
:) Goodnight! Empty is good. Empty is strong.