You know there is no rest for the sorrowful.
Everytime I think I am over it, it haunts my doorstep yet again.
I you haven't guessed, I am watching Mamma Mia and fighting back tears through the whole thing.
If only true bastardom were this beautifully musical and wonderfully colorful.
But it's not. What it is is this long cold loneliness that numbs you from the deepest part of your essence out until you can't feel a thing. Not the hundred of tears you cry. Not the heartache. Not the anger. Not the utter desolation. Just a great big nothingness.
It is a question that holds you prisoner.
It is a bloody stump that never heals.
It is a never ending balancing act.
A struggle between not thinking about it ever and agonizing over the huge gaping hole in your heart.
No fun disco music. No beautiful island. No big white wedding.
Just a sadness.
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