I have a horrible habit when it comes to conversing with someone, and it's all the ex-'s fault. He started it on me, and now I do it. And I hate it.

Basically, you make a statement that you hope is wrong, and then you wait for the other person to refute it. If they don't, or don't realize that your comment isn't rhetorical or they don't hear it, then you think what you've said is true and you feel depressed.

I said it was a horrible habit.

Then there's the feeling of dread when you make a comment or ask a question, and the hesitation or attempts at evasion start.

And here I'd like to say a hi to J's friends; I didn't realize so many of you had hit the site. Welcome to the Kitty Litter of My Mind, and I apologize for all the crap you're learning about me that you never wanted to know. Mind you, I suppose it depends on how often you hit or how into the site you are. Anyhow, thanks for checking the place out, and a few disclaimers: I promise that I never use full names unless I'm linking to someone else's site. If you ask me to remove something, I will. That which you learn will not always be pretty, and for that, I apologize. Please excuse the mess. And finally... I promise I'm not the insane psycho bitch that I appear on here. I'm not a crazed, deranged stalker or anything else. I just tend to keep a lot of my feelings inside when I'm around others; this site is my journal, my diary, my chance to express in words that which I am feeling. Since its inception, it's gotten more and more in tune with me and my brain, and now it's basically at the same level that the paper diaries I have written in are at. I'm the same way in person; if you want to know how I think or feel about something, all you have to do is ask and be willing to listen for awhile, 'cause I can talk. :)

Anyhow, I think I've kinda said all there is to say about things on here. Obviously, they're not changing anytime soon, and while it's a crying shame (hah), there is nothing that can be done about it. It's one of those life is unfair moments that you learn about when you're about four or five, and never quite get used to ever. There is a little person that lives in the back of my brain who strongly believes that everything will work out for the best, there is always hope to be had in any situation, and things can always get better. It's this little person that needs to be shot, because it's he that says, "Hey, just wait it out a bit, and keep up the honesty; things will happen for you and J!" It's he that vaguely believes that Chloe will return, although he's 99% given up on that. It's he that kept believing that things would pull together for Grandma, or that maybe it would work out sometime with the ex-. And it was he that felt that, "Surely Richard Adams won't kill off Hazel?!" While hope is a wonderful thing, it can really fuck with your head. Therefore, I'm going to find myself a nice horse tranquilizer, and feed it to this little guy the next time he goes to sleep.

They say you can't help who you love. Who you physically love, sure, you can help that. Who you emotionally love? Well, guess not. I used to think there was One Big Love in everyone's life, and it was that person that you got stuck on for good, and with that person you'd work things out. If you were lucky, there were two of them (in the event someone died or you got divorced). Now, I don't know. That little guy is telling me that yeah, there are few people for you, and the big tired woman that is the rest of my brain is just done with the whole mess and not willing to get back in the pool (I'm gonna mix up as many metaphors as I can on here, 'cause y'know what? It's my damn site and I'm entitled!")

I'm somewhat of what you might term a hypocrite, if you will (as the coworker used to love saying, it's the ol' J(x) double standard" -- this is reason number 42 why he is an ass). I'm trying to push people to move on, but I'm not able to do it myself. It took me ages to move on from the ex- -- why should I expect others to be able to do so faster? Well, maybe 'cause they seem able to move on from me faster, I don't know.

I think this is where I revert to the fatalist little person that lives somewhere else in my body, since it would appear my brain is full (of people, if not of valuable things like thoughts and intelligence). The fatalist person says that, "If things are going to work out, they will. If you're meant to be together, you will be." In the meantime, move forward with life.

*sigh* Argh. *sigh*

Here comes acceptance and apathy. Welcome, my children!

Baf.