Over It.

I'm having one of those stick-one-song-on-repeat nights, though I don't feel sad or sick. The question that's been haunting me--what do I want?--remains unanswered and maddening. Do I want to leave? Do I want to go back to school? What needs to change?

I'm starting to feel restless again. I know that I need to decide what it is I want, to figure out what I need to do, but I don't want to. I am afraid to think about it; I might find out. I'm afraid that it might be unpleasant, and I'm afraid because planning and setting things down makes me terribly uneasy. I have no problem doing things spontaneously, jumping into something new, disregarding common sense. That is no problem at all. Not acting on impulse is a frightening thing.

Maybe nothing needs to change--maybe I just need to wait and let it all settle. Maybe all it takes is time. But time is so dangerous--time will make you numb, time erases, time makes you forget. Time heals, but at what cost? Time leaves but memories, cruel, faint glimpses of what used to be. Time leaves you empty.

I bled.