Hmm. it's only been two years. No biggy.

Alot has happened and I question myself every day on my ability to cope with all of this- whether I'm really doing as well as I tell everyone, or if everything is about to completely unravel right infront of my eyes, but Im still heartily numbed to it all.
Then again.. I don't know if Im numb.
I don't know if I'm not either.
I don't know how I feel about them leaving.
I sure as hell don't know how i'm going to cope in the future.
..And what about the rest of my life?


Now that I'm back from France and the hype has all calmed down completely in the last three months, I'm back to being the one who's spoken over, looked at slightly bizarrely and sighed at on a regular basis. The beautiful, beautiful difference now, is that I really couldn't give a shit. Or perhaps, while floating around in my lovely cloud of indifference, I have convinced my logical side somewhat of not caring, and stopped my emotions from running amock.

I just need to decide whether this is what I want or not.

I'm on the third strike, and am still trying to figure out if it could be considered as a giantine mistake, blow it up to grandest proportions to make myself feel like the victim yet again. In some inane way that is my comfort. The fact that it couldn't have been avoided, it couldn't have been countered in any way by me. I feel justified and secure by folding and putting it down to That Terrible Injustice in the World.

I don't know where I'm going.

And frankly I think, that could be okay for a while.
Now, to put the mask on and play pretend that i'm alright with all of this.
Who knows.. I actually could be.
I just wish I knew.