My insides will twist around, and I just want to hide. Hide from you, hide from me.
Knowing the projected outcome, or lack there of, doesn’t make anything any easier. Though, I thought this wasn’t a problem anymore…guess I was wrong.
And the one past experience doesn’t make it easy to just pick up and move on.
It keeps reoccuring. Always. It’s never. That’s it. It just never is. And there is absolutely nothing I can do about it; so then why worry about it? I try not to. But it’s a difficult thing to not do.
I guess I can pass this off as a learning experience and just try to gain some insightful lesson from all this intoxicating madness.