I have been a hermit lately. This funk I’m in has pretty much numbed my heart. I’ve become a bit of a recluse… well, more than a bit. I’ve not been wanting to be social at all. I continue to be pensive and contemplative of my situation. 

I’ve been thinking a lot about the really good and happy memories in my former life/relationship. It’s self-torture I know – but the really good memories – the ones that make me smile is something to be cherished, right?

There’s this one particular beautiful memory where we were on the Oregon coast, about an hour south of Portland. It happened to be a cold Spring morning. There’s some coastal fog and the dampness on the sand. I recall running on the beach and the dog enjoying himself. There was a sense of solitude and solace. We were the only ones on the beach.

So peaceful, so removed from the stress of reality. It was almost like a fantasy. I was so happy. I felt the calmness and serenity of it all. Even the dog was ecstatic! So surreal. 

Fast forward 3 years later, I never would have imagined being in this situation I am in now. God(dess). Why the fuck do I keep torturing myself like this?

I’ve been watching a lot of dramas lately. Thankful for Netflix! Each one of the films always ends in a happy ending, always romantic. Fuck. I want that. I don’t think I had that in my previous relationship. I had something close, but nothing like a Hollywood ending. But I guess that’s the truth of romance. 

We all want that happy ending, but we have to understand that we only get half of that. Some people live in denial and want more, when we should just be satisfied with what we have right now.