Why am I so bloody angry? And I am. All the time. I am going on this rock climbing outing. In the group comments on the interwebs where the organising happens somebody posted a question about how we will be getting up to the site. So the first thing that popped into my head was “Fucking donkeys. I have never been in a donkey cart before and I feel now is my chance.” Came real close to actually posting that answer too. Then I saw my friend tagged me in a Facebook post and I got really excited about it – because very few people ever do that – until I read the post. She nominated me to say three positive things each day for seven days. So while before something positive was a respite for my brain which goes “What the fuck? What the fuck? WHAT. THE. FUCK!” the rest of the time and during positive moments is sort of like “Oh. OK.”, now I have to think about it and note it in order to post it later on because otherwise I’m that negative arsehole. Which I am but do not necessarily want to keep on being one. So I have to act and pretend being positive. And now this feels like a remedial assignment because I failed being positive enough the rest of the time. Why can’t I be a normal fucking human being?
Here are some “next-day-after-spending-day-climbing-with-the-ex” thoughts: 1. It is unbearable to be just friends with someone you love, to stay calm and composed when all you ache to do is hug them, and kiss them, and never let go; and 2. I really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really need a drink. Also, kinda-sorta 3. I cannot stop living my life because our paths might cross on occasion.
Ok. So I spent the day rock climbing with a nice group of people that I have went with before. Except today the group included my ex. You know, the one this entire bloody blog is about.
So now we know two things. One, Yours Truly is doing much better than before. And two, I am still totally in live with her.