Content

I'm ok. It's strange what makes a person content. One day I'm all hurly-burly-feeling-lonely-screaming-rage-in-my-head, but here I am alone in the house on a Friday night feeling quite content.

I had a full uneventful day - survived work which started at 7am, did some sale shopping after and spent a crazy amount of money in the space of 1 hour, but birthday presents for all the younger members of the family are set until next year :). Met up with my friend for lunch/dinner which was lovely then home. I felt all creative and decided to make a card for my niece using decorations I nicked from a wedding recently - how nifty am I?

Now I'm sitting in bed listening to music and watching the sky. It looks amazing. These rainy days suit me. I love it when it rains especially if there is thunder and lightning involved. Yesterday I actually rode my bike out in the rain, I haven't done that...well...ever. It was wonderful. Not since I was a kid have I gotten wet in the rain on purpose and never whilst cycling. But I love it even more when I'm snuggled in bed and the rain is pouring onto my flat roof (room is an extension).

At the moment I see heavy dark clouds, the colour of which I can only describe as 'prussian blue' but with patches of clear sky in the distance where I can see the oranges and pinks of the setting sun. See, I am looking again.

Destruction

In the space of two days I have destroyed and lost. I have lost one friend and pushed away another's love. The pain is almost unbearable, and I don't know what to do with myself.
But.
Did I not bring this on myself? Didn't I push them away? Possibly. Probably.

Maybe I just like destroying things. Scuppering my chances. Allowing melancholy and disaster in.

Maybe I just don't know the value of things. I throw things away too easily because I was brought up spoilt (youngest child). I actually hate that. I hate whenever I feel like I have not learned to keep things sacred because I was spoilt as I child. I try so hard not to act spoilt but I get reminded that I am. I also get told I need to grow up, which I also hate because no-one is perfect. Especially those who tell me to grow up. Everyone does stupid things. At least I realise them and show real remorse. At least I care about how I affect others.

Maybe I need peace. For the last 3 or so years I have not had any peace. This last year has been especially taxing on the soul and I need to recuperate. It may take years. Well, that's what it feels like. There are some things that I don't feel anymore, some things I am no longer in touch with, and some things I no longer believe in. I need to believe in those things again otherwise I know I won't survive this life. Not how I should anyway.

Why does this hurt so much? I am free from the grasp of those who have hurt me. So why am I still suffering?