Apparently, I don't actually like watching tv. I never do it anymore. David and I would watch movie after movie constantly. We called our home our "Hobbit Hole" and never really wanted to leave. We felt safe there. For many reasons I won't bore you with. But watching films was our thing. Not good films. Just films.

Now? All I do is listen to music and write. Why writing about frivolous things, such as this, would give me any sort of relief or pause is truly beyond me. I keep leaning on distraction but isn't there some sort of line on that somewhere?

Maybe not.

I read a rather unfortunate quote today.

"Grief lasts longer than sympathy, which is one of the tragedies of grieving"

Elizabeth McCracken

She isn't wrong. It's weird what this type of trauma and heartbreak can do to you. Other than leave you standing totally and utterly alone in a void causing you to turn completely inward? It can cause you to lean a bit more heavily than intended on pure desperation. It will also put whimsical ideals into your head attempting to drudge up any form of hope. Sad part is sometimes it works, for a bit. Until you realize that the bait your brain threw wasn't actually real. Hurts so much more when you acknowledge that you really wanted it to be real.

But of course it isn't real. It's me!

I am genuinely rather curious how others handle this type of disappointment though. You know? The self manifestation of…well, misery. Essentially. I'm already crossing the desert plains of the 9th layer of hell, why not pile on a little mental self-mutilation? And how about a heaping side of denial smothered in humiliation? Sure! Sounds great.

I have never appreciated anything about myself. I was sort of taught that at a young age. I've just always been so overly critical of what I think, say and do. So everything? Things like believing in myself in any capacity was a foreign concept to me. Still is, a bit, apparently. But Dvid always saw things that I still don't. Nor do others. He made me feel accepted, appreciated, understood, welcomed, and loved.

It's one of the things I really miss.

This entry was a perfect example of organic, nonsensical yammering in the written form.

You're welcome.

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