The past few days I've been walking around with endless explosions inside my heart and my bowels. My period this month announced itself with another bout of crippling indigestion. Then Jason, the man I never thought I would hear from again appeared on my radar, if only briefly. He married the woman he walked out on me for. I'm trying to be happy for him, I am. Because that is what you do when you love someone. You wish them the best and you let them go.

 I've been dragging him around in my heart chamber for far too long, he's like an anvil at this point. And to know now, that he's been happy all along in the arms of someone else is like the ultimate fuck you. If anything I'm sure he's happy at my misery, or perhaps I wish to think he's happy, would imply a certain level of emotional attachment, but I can't wish for that. I can't undo the past and he's beyond me know. I'm just crippled. Inside and out. I don't even think I cried this hard when he left. I feel as if I'm mourning the death of someone. Perhaps it's the death of my own unbridled idealism.  Perhaps I would have been happier going to my grave not knowing what had happened to him. It shouldn't hurt as much as it does.

Calgary is just a hole of pain and misery. Everything that happened there has left me an emotional vegetable and the past two years I've been hobbling about just trying to recover.