The (real) end

Is that what you call a getaway? Tell me what you got away with. I've seen more spine in jellyfish, I've seen more guts in 11 year old kids

On the good news front, my "potential hypothetical crisis" (which, honestly, had way too many conditional words to actually have been something I should have been worrying about) has been essentially solved, seeing as the determining factor refused to take a stance.

On the bad news front, apparently this solution is not the one I had been hoping for. Until I got my answer I honestly wasn't sure what I wanted, what I was secretly wishing, but this awful feeling of disappointment and heartache seems to give me a good idea about how I wanted the outcome to be.

While the heavy fog of uncertainty has been lifted, I'm not entirely sure it's better this way. Now that my crisis-that-was-not is solved and I have gagued my reaction, I am only more painfully aware of how unfair I am being to certain people in my life.

I told you I'm a bad person. You just never believed me.

Also on the good news front, you probably won't be bored with vague entries anymore dealing with my inner woes about this subject, barely masked behind inspecific terms and generalizations. Now that this chapter can be closed I can mourn the loss of possibility in peace without the poisonous "what ifs" tearing me apart.

Good day.

Not Again,
Catherine