I should be asleep. Truthfully, I should've been asleep a good four hours ago, at least. But I'm just restless, again. I'm anxious.
Tomorrow I'll be seeing a couple of former friends for what I think will be the very last time. Still recovering from the course that everything took, I should be relieved--and I think at some point in the day, I will feel that way--but right now, I'm noticeably on edge. It's not that I think something terrible will happen, or that I fear the awkward tension might be unbearable; rather, I think it's just how I always feel in situations such as this...
No matter what the occasion, if I've been unable to rectify a problem, I take it personally. I get ill, my stomach turns, my mind races and tries to come up with witty responses in case a confrontation does indeed, occur--and I don't know why. I shouldn't be upset about this. I shouldn't be as torn up as I am. I shouldn't care one bit. But that's my problem: I always care, even when it seems I don't or probably shouldn't.
It never fails.
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