This last month or two I’ve really made all about me. I’m feeling really good in my own skin right now, which is great.
Still plenty to work on, but all in all I’m pretty fucking happy.
My house is coming along nicely.
I’ve started reading a new book.
I’ve been writing more.
Yeah…life is good.
These last few months I’ve really been trying to figure myself out. I never realized just how lost I got. I thought I found myself after the divorce, but there was still so much of me that was left behind. I’m still getting there. It is amazing how your brain can completely fuck with you.
I am really fucking good at it.
I hate that I keep using the phrase “I am trying.” I am though. Lately fighting my self destructive habbits are harder than ever. The urges play in my brain over and over. As if maybe I didn’t hear them the first time.
For the second night I am completely alone in my house. I’m trying to go to sleep but my brain is just not having it.
I just want to feel the touch and love of another person. I don’t even mean sexually. I would do just fine with a long I love you hug. I feel like one of those babies that is missing out on skin to skin time with it’s mother. The hardest part of being single is rememebering how great it felt to love someone and be loved back…that is what I miss the most. That amazing energy that comes with it. Going to sleep at night knowing that someone loves you just as you love them. Now when I go to sleep at night I just feel nothing, I am alone.
I just want to punch someone in the face….