Three months now. I still go through all the cycles of utter despair, unending affection, cold distant apathy, and seething anger with such predictable frequency that I have become immune to these feelings. I have learned to turn a blind eye. But there are days I want to give in to these intense emotions and not put a brave face on. Today is one of those. To be alone in this is probably what makes it worse. Even good music fails to muffle the sounds.
I need a vacation.
I need a recluse.
I need memory loss.
One fine day I will stop staring at the horizon, see the sun rise, and close my eyes to bask in the first rays? or will I?
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Inflictions, so far