I write more when I'm upset.
If I wrote for a living, constantly going through on-again-off-again relationships would make me a millionaire.
Instead, it just makes me insane.
It's crappy that I have more to share when I'm miserable than when I'm happy, though, really.
I want stability. I want peace. I want healing.
I have come so far, but I still have SO FAR left to go.
I get so tired sometimes, just tired of being this person, of fighting with the same demons day in and day out, to the point that it's predictable but none the less painful in it's predictability.
I have five days off.
FIVE.
I went to the PX today after work, shopping spree on my mind.
I couldn't find crap that I wanted to buy. My father will surely be shocked at this possibility.
I know I was.
I did all I could to make my relationship better, but it didn't work.
Now there's nothing left but pieces of my heart, and the urge to wash all those pieces away before they manage to heal up enough to be broken again.
This isn't the way it was supposed to be.
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