Day 82

That is 35.49%. And I am frustrated.

I shouldn't be. I shouldn't be. I shouldn't be. ...I am.

Yesterday's blog, reading it now with fresh eyes, hurts. It hurts to read, hurts to realize that it is really the condition of my heart. I hoped that releasing it out into the universe would help, but it hasn't. Every single time, another piece of me dies and I need to work to raise it from the dead. I sound pathetic, but I assure you I am not; I am extremely level-headed in this matter for the most part and I am under no illusions.

But why does it do this to me then? Why has it left me limping, clutching my chest, and without fingers that only know how to type painful, ironic diatribes. I need to walk so I can get away; I need to have a heart that works so I can love someone deserving and give God what He demands; and, I need need need to type papers so that I can pass this semester and be done with it.

Please, please, leave me alone. Amazing how not so far in the past I would have done nearly anything not to be, and now it is all I want in the world.

Leave me alone.