Text messaging is the devil’s agent.

It’s so easy. A few quick flicks of the thumb, and I’ve tossed my heart out into the ether again. Perhaps a ‘delete’ is in order, to spare me the ridiculousness of it all.
This is a hard one. Which, to me only serves to illustrate the fact that I’ve made the right decision, but on nights like this, when I am home early and trying to think of creative ways to stay warm, it’s very difficult to be strong.
Although it’s rather presumptuous of me to think my texting would be answered with a positive…

I can’t shake this funk. My days are spent in a fog, and I want to either curl up and sleep them away, or soak them away in a hot bath. I know it’s a cumulative funk. It’s not just from one source. It’s been building over many months of what now feels like recklessness on my part.

I’ve never run away before. I’ve always run headlong into these things, against all reason sometimes, and stuck it out to “just see”. Always. If it felt good, I felt no need to quit. But first there was the special, secret friend who wasn’t always so secret, who I flat out said no to because I knew I would fall too hard. That became a clear and wise decision very quickly. Then there was this last…so much of it made sense that it was almost impossible to hear the alarm bells, but they were there. This one hurts me.

I said “pause”. I feel like it was the wrong term. I don’t have enough faith for “pause”.

Maybe if I was someone else, if I hadn’t been through so much pain so very recently, I could have chilled out enough to just coast through the unknown and see what happens. As it stands, now I have retreated deep into this attic, and I’m buried under piles of quilts. I’ve stored enough nuts up here to last me well into the spring, so I intend to hide out from the elements until the weather gets better. It would be cozier with two, but despite all of this space, nobody else seems to fit.

Winter makes cowards of us all.