Self Torture

I picked this blog template because it is the colors of the wedding that shall not happen. So I can see everyday that beautiful, crisp, grass green and feel a swelling vacancy.

I am not "that girl." You know who she is. she is always with a boy, beacuse she can't exist alone. She is weepy and clingy. She has mad mood swings and never lets her fellow go out for a drink with the boys. She is wickedly jealous when a woman even blinks at her fellow.

No, I am more independent, maybe more rational. Usually a bit of supporting evidence is needed to convince me. I like the idea of two people living in harmony together by choice, not by need.

All my theories have been thrown to the wind, however, and I find myself taking a tour through the inside corridors of "that girl." I have been replaced with "that girl." I can't find a light out of this loss. Me, who can find the best of any situation, am at a complete and utter loss to find goodness here. I feel as if there has been an unauthorized amputation, and I am left but a part of the wholeness I was.

And I can't know how to convince him that this isn't the best of ideas. That maybe we should have some honest communication over the issues rather than throwing the towel in. How many times have we talked over the symptoms, but never the issues?

I vote that we deal with the issues and turn this trainwreck of a tragedy into a rough spot that is conquered.

It is a nice green, huh?