I've made it half way through my work week. Sometimes I need to hold on to these thoughts. I miss my family, my old life. I realized recently that, even if everything were to return to normal, I still wouldn't be able to go back. My old life is over and it's no bad thing. I have learned so much about myself; I'm so much stronger than I ever thought I could be.
This isn't a news post either. It's late, as I've been up since 5:30 am and my contacts are bugging me so much that I would not be adverse to clawing my eyes out right this moment. I fear that might make the rest of my work week a touch more difficult, though, so I refrain. Go, me!
Yes, there's a story behind my extreme contact use. The problem with all these stories is that I have to start at the beginning. In order for everything to make sense and convey my reality of the situation I am in, currently, I have to begin with background. Anyone who's familiar with me knows that I'm a stickler for detail. I do so like to tell a story. So, in the name of "the good story," I will work on linear writing. Loop-de-loops are best saved for the fair-grounds.