Saying is hard

I have tried to write here a few times the last few days and those efforts haven't made it past a few random sentences and the "are you sure you want to delete this post" stage. It is frustrating when I know I have thoughts, issues and concerns on my mind but am unable to articulate and communicate about them even here, with myself and possible a few observers. I feel bottled up in many ways so this post will probably be a random spewing of words that fumble towards some sort of coherence. If they make any sense along the way, it may be completely incidental.

I miss Michael. I haven't see or talked to him for three weeks since we last went to the market together and he has become silent to my calls or texts. It felt strange that last Sunday because he acted as if we had just met or barely knew each other. I literally felt like a stranger in his presence, from the time I said hello to the time he said goodbye and walked back to his car. I don't know what to think or feel about that, especially in regards to this last turn of events in our lives over the fall, winter and spring. I am confused and hurt but don't know where to find the strength to keep reaching out to him. And of course, I just picked up my phone and texted him now. *sigh*

Any attachments and bonds with Brian I am over. I still don't quite understand what those weeks and months spent with him were about, but I did learn some lessons about myself and the choices other people make. I saw him the other day with another ex of mine and couldn't help but smile to think they had found each other, out of all the other guys in this city. Funny how life turns, yes?

My life patterns are different now. I spend more time at home now than out and about. This has been a big shift for me, but it happened gradually. I don't have as many obligations, events and people to attend to so much of my time is now mine. That seeking, looking, wondering, wandering feeling isn't hanging over my head as it once was. I always felt I was on the verge of missing out on something and had to be going, going, going all the time. (random thought: Why are boing and going not pronounced the same?) Instead of rushing around every morning to get out of the house and be somewhere else, I spend more intentional time at home, working on interests and things that had faded for a while in my heart and mind. I am studiously busy without having to be out and about, every waking moment of every day. I don't really believe I am missing anything and this different pace, I still have yet to make my mind up about it.

I need to say stuff, to get emotions about about stuff that is bothering me and I just can't seem to blurt it out, so I am going to shut up now. It is like everything is crammed up against this little hole poked in the damn of my brain and there is no way it can all get out and the pressure is building up. Whatever. None of it makes sense. Is it possible to be depressed and not know about it? I have been waking up worried lately, with a ton of things on my mind and stressing about the future and all the millions of details I cannot control. I hate being alone. I hate admitting I am not okay all the time. I am anxious that the life path I have chosen isn't going to lead to the future that I had planned for me. I need to shut up.

daemon