I’ve found my stride again. In other words, in the midst of this offbeat, scary as fuck hurricane, emotional rollercoaster ride of a weekend has reminded me how not to give a shit about affection or lack thereof.
There’s a lot of shit I have had to walk through to get to where I realized I didn’t care anymore, but between dealing with my own emotions and dealing with how badly I have been failing at life, I somehow wandered back to this place. This secluded place in my mind and heart that enables me to shut down my heart and focus on what’s important to me is the most comfortable place I could be right now. Having any manner of attachment to anyone who isn’t going to fulfill me without me begging for it is the worst thing I could fall into again.
I don’t have time for games or false expectations. I only have time for what I want out of life. Everything else is secondary, because frankly, I foresee a future where very few people are going to want anything to do with me and vice-versa. I can only do so much for those who don’t want to be helped. They’ll figure it out, and I’ll be long gone for whatever reason. Not like they’ll need me anyway.
Why is all of this such a good thing? After I had found my way back, my ability to focus returned. It’s still kind of foggy, but my line of vision to emotionally disconnect is sharpening. My fears are fading. I know what I want and I’m going to go get it, with or without them. I’d love to have someone by my side all the while, but that’s not going to happen for a very long time. If ever.
In other news, I’m drinking sake on a Sunday night. Not very smart, but I’ll accept the consequences regardless of how painful. I’m just pleased with myself that all this tiresome nonsense I experienced during this very long weekend has turned around for some manner of good. I’m relieved to no longer expect no consistent form of affection from anyone.
I am the only thing in my life that is consistent and can be trusted.