Even When Fixed

It's slightly ridiculous and more than a little sad to think that after all this time, just the momentary sight of her is enough to make me dive into the nearest hole. You know how when you have a heart attack, there's a little piece of the heart that dies and never works again? I'm beginning to think there's an emotional equivalent to that. Yes, wounds heal, but sometimes it doesn't completely scar over. If you pick at it, it will bleed again. It's not something you think about, it's not something you have to deal with on a regular basis, but if you happen to touch it, it still hurts.

It strikes me with a profound sadness that doubles as anger at myself for allowing myself to be sad. It's irrational and needless, and I can't help it for a moment. I hate that helplessness. It should never have gotten that far, good or bad. I can't explain it, which frustrates me further.

What I do know is that really don't ever want to see her again. I don't like that any better than anything else.