Red Rot

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on quiet, on talking softer, on staying busy

I have been having a bad two months. A sort of last hurrah to top off three low years. Not to say that my bad times are any different than anyones bad times but god it can wear you down.

I like to think there's purpose in disconsolation: that life somehow cleans you out or keeps you grounded, that i can take it all and be changed by it all and come out fuller with room for more. Maybe that's true. Maybe not. It's easy to feel human in the aftereffects. In the moment I am always lost, dramatic, reasonless. Like some part of my brain takes comfort in hurt. If I feel swaddled by self-pity then at least something is close, present, aware of me.

When I am being fair nothing is straightforward or causal. I know what he means and the complications layer and overlap until his sadness amplifies my sadness. If I am learning anything its through good or bad, it's what it means to love someone.

2:11 a.m. - 2011-08-12

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