Still

I've been painting for the last 90 minutes with my little one and having a fantastic time. I remember the last time I painted...hmm...two years ago. Damn near to the day.

Two years ago was the last time I remember playing with my friend. Two years ago I remember laughing hysterically trying to get her to play with me. Paint, I told her. Just pick up a brush and paint...it's very theraputic, I told her. And so she did. And we painted and laughed and had a great time...(anyone should try this, skilled or not)

Then I said I met someone, he's moving in and I'm putting myself on hold. The End.

Then I said he moved out. I'm taking myself off hold. The Beginning.

Mother Fucker. I can't blame him for all of this, but I sure will right now. It makes me feel better. I warned this guy that I WAS NOT READY FOR A RELATIONSHIP but noooo...she must be silly. MotherFucker. Didn't I say this already? (Such a potty mouth this one has, you must be thinking...well I don't give a fuck. That's what I'm thinking.) I told him time and time again to get the fuck out of my life and let me be...but NOOO...this one INSISTED on how he can help make me happy...And now he's got my son upset for leaving and my son says, "I can't talk to him because it'll make me cry, but I wish he'd come home..." Fuck me everyone, fuck me.

The End. The End of that bullshit. I haven't got time for the pain, as the song goes. I've got WAY too much to do today and tomorrow and the next day and the next day until I stop hurting...right? It's been awhile, as the other song goes, but it does diminish, right? The hurt...Oh God help me on this one.