I’ve wanted to post new content on here for the past couple of weeks but every time I start writing something, I abandon it halfway through and ultimately delete it. The last thing I attempted putting together died a horrible death after I had written three whole paragraphs. I’m not entirely certain what happened, but I suspect my despondent mood had a lot to do with it.
The trouble is this: when I’m not feeling my best or my most confident, the words just don’t come out. Or, if they do, they tumble out of my brain and land on the page haphazardly and every which way. When I read them back, hoping to hit the “Publish” button, they make absolutely zero sense. Rather than spend the next three-and-a-half hours – perhaps even four hours – editing these random sentences down to a post that is relatively coherent, I just end up trashing it. It’s easier that way.
I don’t want to come off as permanently joyless and dry-as-a-raisin, but the past six months have been absolutely horrible ones for me. Things were looking up in April/May but promptly fell to the ground straight after in June and I haven’t completely recovered from that. Yes, my grandmother died and yes, the apartment I purchased four years ago got delayed again (for a third time) and yes, a romantic relationship that I had hoped would blossom into something more lasting faltered. All this, plus I had to forego seeing my best friend in the UK when I was forced to cancel the trip to London I had started planning back in Autumn 2016. I haven’t seen Katie for over two years. Let me repeat myself: she’s my BEST FRIEND. Can you imagine not seeing your bestie for more than two years? Worse, can you imagine having planned a trip to see her and then, at the last minute, having to cancel that trip while your grandmother lay dying in a hospital bed?
No, I thought not.
All this … this is precisely why my mood level has been below zero recently. And do you know what? I have no idea how to fix it. At this point, I don’t even care anymore – I don’t give enough fucks to rectify the situation. I’m just gonna sit here – or lie down – and wait for something to change. Wait for someone else to come my way (preferably brandishing a bunch of red roses and a Chapters/Indigo gift card worth $2,000) to take this incessant ache in my chest away. Imma wait right here. You carry on.
And everyone who’s been posting about #InternationalKissingDay on social media can go fuck right off.