My Loss of Limb

At some point, you'd think one with my build of endurance and "oh, it's fine"s would be well-experienced with the searing pain that is disappointment, the stabbing in your heart called Loneliness. But that's the thing about us. We never really get over it. And thus, we live forever lonely and forever disappointed, because we never learn the lesson. For now, I'm saying that I have learned a lesson. That I can't rely on my friends to understand how I'm feeling. That they will never know how they're the only thing I have, and when they leave, I'm completely and utterly alone. There's no place like it.

For three months now, I've been planning on wearing a saran wrap dress to this little thing called Gallery Stroll. It's a lovely romp, and I'd usually die before considering attending again, [read: Rhymes] but not this time. I would work those rooms like the late shift at Smith's, as long as I had my saran wrap dress. However. That was three months ago. Three months since the idea was hatched, and three subsequent Gallery Strolls missed because of what? Disappointment. There's no way I'm going to Gallery Stroll alone, no matter what I'm wearing, because I'm not a fun person alone. I'm like the sugar additive in any drink. Just caffeine? Nasty. And now I'm going to have to wait until this time in September until I can go to Gallery Stroll. If then.

I'm just sick of waiting. By September, who knows what the situations will be? What if I'm not even friends with Diantha? What if I've completely lost the fun around the idea? I'll tell you one thing, I'm just about this close to saying Fuck It, What's The Point. And I think in this context, this does not last until September.

I am not a machine. Please stop trying to buy another compliance reaction, this unit has reached its quota.