2004-03-24

The soul that needs a band-aid

"Life would be infinitely happier if we were born at the age of eighty, and gradually worked our way towards the age of eighteen"--Mark Twain.

I thought it appropriate to put in the message written on the card that Brienne gave me for my birthday. Had I found the time, I would have written yesterday...

In synopsis, it was a wonderful birthday.

So many thoughts running through my head, I can't say anything more. Apathy grips onto angst, and I can't do away with them. Normal tormented writer at the brink of insanity because I lose control of everything, and I feel lost.

I don't know if this is my soul reaching emotional equilibrium, but I'm not depressed...it's sad and happy in a glass vase like the single red rose trapped amongst a dozen cream-colored ones.

Sheets no longer damp with tears, throat no longer stuffed with pain--emotional standstill, but the residue remains.

Or maybe...I just miss him. How can I miss him when we haven't even met?

The conversion from a tormented soul to a normal one is a painful process...I'm becoming human.

aeka at 12:06 p.m.