Guess who's depressed again? Ayyyy, party people, turn upppp. :)
So what's annoying me?
Nostalgic memories of good moments with people I can no longer be in contact with. As usual, its the classic, "Remember how in love you felt with Patrick #1? The date you had? What about your most recent ex, and your first date? Wasnt it cute the way you kissed at the end, and the way he acted before when he had liked you?" We get it, universe. Love comes and goes. It has gone, but will come again, in the shape of someone else, or myself. And I will let it happen, naturally.
My own thoughts. Since of course, when you break up with an ex, one of the first thoughts are, "Have they moved on already?" It doesn't help that on the TV show I am watching, "YOU" on Netflix, (its a cross between a show that triggers me but also makes me feel.... i dont know, soothed at times,) that the guy's girlfriend jumped into bed with the first hot guy that came back in town. (Did I do that at some point? Yes. Was it intentional, planned, or expected? Hell no. And did me and the ex, who I loved before, even get to reconnect enough that I felt comfortable with his dick reconnecting with my cervix? Absolutely not. It just made me go, "I miss Patrick", the second one, and we redated.)
Anyway, as I was saying, no one wants to be at home and thinking, "Had he already moved on? Hell, has he already found a new girl that he's gonna walk around the Lake with, and enjoy so much that he kisses on the first date?" Aaaaaaand basically being a real life version of the song Mr. Bright-Side.
But the answer is..... who the fuck even cares.
The point of blocking him on everything is so that no matter what continues or changes in his life, I won't be able to see. Or care.
And since the sound of my stomach gurgling and blood leaving my face is a sign that, YES, you dumb bitch, you are still obviously nervous....
Then, no, he has not moved on. He's at home, painting a wall, and sleeping. That's all you need to keep in mind.
Plus, he sucks at talking to girls.
Or.... most people. I worry for him occasionally, but just as he said to me a few days ago, when I was overthinking, "there's no need to worry". :)
You don't give a fuck what he's up to. Don't think about it. If it makes you feel better, just imagine him sitting criss cross applesauce in front of a wall, procrastinating on painting it, since he's too busy making really stupid tweets that no one else will understand unless he went on a TED Talk explaining his *genius*, and eating a single can of chili and cardboard/cement/carpet flavored cereal every single morning.
Aim for more in life. :)
I still am struggling to organize my bedroom. Hell, I almost had to move out, last time around because of it. (By my own choice.) Now that I've finally got the money, why not just pay to get my laundry done, then have the rest of the time just cleaning out old junk, putting in new things, seperating my cookware and all that from my bags.... I should be able to do it, itll be done in no time for me.
Really hate how my hair will go back to being an afro if I put water on it, but appreciating its health right now. I'm doing good so far anyway. Switching my hair up could feel good. It was amusing seeing the way people reacted to seeing my real hair nicely done again. Even though its nearly identical to my wig, the perk about my REAL HAIR is that I won't feel like I'm losing bloodflow to my brain from wearing a wig cap, a wig, and a hat all hella stacked ontop of eachother, like they're jenga pieces. Hell, Patrick damn near dropped his jaw over it. Not sure if it was a compliment or not, but his bewilderment of "Wait, that's how your hair looks like when it's done naturally????", was.... a little amusing. Thanks, maybe!
I did look fine as fuck, yall gotta admit that.
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