I had someone I adored dearly.
And in an odd moment, clearly lost their compass and severed contact with me after sort of painting me with an abrasive, toxic brush…
It was curious, hateful, and confusing but sadly I still miss them and keep wondering how the fuck did they get to there? Because I’m the same person as I’ve always been.
Well, minus the craziness in my guts.
Not to say that I couldn’t have been bitchy, mean, or grumpy while under the influence of all this shit. I hope not. But it is a clear possibility, along with poor spelling.
I mean, yeah… I’ve noticed a bunch of fellow authors I’d thought I had decent friendships sitting in silence and while that saddened me, I bear them no ill will. If they came back to circle around for friendship, they would be welcome.
Okay, not the ones that said they hoped I die of cancer or threatened me with dire physical things. Because those people seriously are not welcome. I don’t need to be pickled in toxic juices.
For the most part in my life, I do try to be helpful and civil and you know, I don’t always hit the mark. There have been times when I flat out am just a growly badger and snap and bite. I do try to apologize at those times. I also know I’m kind of reserved in a lot of situations, which I actually didn’t realize until a few years ago. So it’s been a journey of…. shit, let’s see who I am coming out of these surgeries and the removal of a source of intense constant pain.
It’ll be interesting. I hope I’m an okay person. I’ll still fuck up. I’ll still have Aspergers and people will still confuse me but you know what, so long as the neighbour’s cat likes me, I’m good.
It’s a weird space to be in right now and well, I’m looking forward to decorating it once I’m past the fog and noise.