I don’t know if I can make sense of everything inside my mind at the moment … can I admit that? I certainly don’t like to. But everything is in a mess. My mind has never operated in a filing cabinet kinda way, I’ve never closed one drawer before opening another, and my emotions are spilling over all over the place. No wonder I’m screaming out inside.
Ever since I aired some home truths, my mind has been a constant mess. What do I want? Should I say anything? Say all the things. Say nothing. What do I want again?
A recent spike in blog traffic sent me into paranoia, wondering if M had somehow discovered my blog. And so I wondered whether I should tell him that I did write about him occasionally, and as quick as the idea came into my mind, it was written off as another one of my terrible ideas.
In the last 48 hours I’ve been torn between telling M how I really feel or cutting him off entirely. I don’t even think he’s really listening. Instead of making rash decisions or sending hilariously blunt messages, I’m holding out.
Usually writing it out gives me clarity but for now, I think I’m holding onto too much and there’s nothing that stresses me out than not knowing what to do.
Is it too early on in the week to pig out on mini eggs and cry to Titanic in my pyjamas?