I was right and wrong about what came down the pike at me. I was right about something coming but I was wrong on it's impact. What should've been surprising...surprisingly wasn't. I've been over this sh*t for awhile now and although what was presented to me disappointed me...I was not surprised in the slightest. I already knew all that was sent to me would happen. It has been months since I even looked in a certain direction yet some people insist on tinkering with emotions they don't understand. They just don't know when to quit and as for retaliation? That would just continue the cycle so..."C'est la vie."
Folks I write this exclusively for myself and whichever a**hole thought it cute to send me all that drama. No one should have power over you unless you decide to give it to them. All that I saw was "sad" but when the dust of it all settled, I really began to ponder on it and came to a conclusion. How could something hurt me that I expected to happen? The steps backward, the usual suspects (both old and new), the f*ck it attitude and a burgeoning future filled with late night bar bathroom stalls and short term memory loss. All egged on by people that should care enough to say "slow down" but don't because they think the fiasco "funny" and thus "fun". Everything that hindered the "subject" in the email...attitudes, ideas and actions. All brought back as something "new". Funny but according to what I was shown, this "new life" looked just like the old one. It's like taking a sh*t and finding a way to shove it all back inside yourself. That's what I found "sad".
Some may feel the need to do that to "forget" the past. Something that is an impossibility. I know that in my past I have been hurt but I also know what that hurt burned out of me. Every pain in life, every struggle is meant to show you something about yourself. What needs to die and what needs to live and thrive. What is dead and burned must stay that way. Discarding the bad while retaining the good that one may keep growing from there. Looking backwards past the point of pain is a fools scope that removes anything you could have learned from that painful experience. I cannot deny the truth that great writings came from my pain. The pain of loss and "not enough". The pain of missing someone and distance. All that I wrote was real and reading it again brings me to near tears because it was beautiful...it was pure. To forget all that happened would mean those pieces were never written and the passion behind them was never real. Well guess what? It was real and I will not deny that part of my life no matter how much pain and anger acknowledging it brings me. I shut myself in to be able to come to a place of peace without anesthesia or distraction. To stare at my sorrow until it sickened me so that I may understand it without emotion. Doing so, I came to a place of gratitude for the good times and a place of disgust for the bad. Yet I am wiser as to where my heart lay from now on. My only problem is that my new attitude has me lacking the desire to lay it anywhere else...
So having said all this; if in fact all the accounts that were ridiculously shared with me are accurate...who gives a sh*t anymore? I gave a sh*t when I mistakenly thought it would make a difference...why bother now when I know for certain it doesn't? So to the person that sent me that info, thanks but no thanks. Try to find another way to f*ck with me...that sh*t is played out already lol
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