Insomnimusing: Allons-y!

It's a clear, blue, warm, sunny day. I ventured out, and I have to say, I'm getting really tired of feeling like this. I know it's over. I know if he can't love me completely then he's not worthy of me. So I took my girls to lunch. Everything looked great. Tasted wonderful too. I was really making some progress, until the reggae was piped in through the sound system. That was the end of my lunch. From there we went to the grocery store. I felt progressively weaker as we proceeded through the store. The tears didn't break through until I got to the fruit. (No surprise there.) At least I made it to the parking lot before I actually got sick. So much for lunch. I had a large, empty cup on hand for the drive home. (Allow me to express here additional RAGE at the fact that my own body is so betraying me and shows no signs of relenting!) That had been the most I'd gotten into my stomach at one time in a week. My head's got it figured out, but the universe isn...

A picture is worth a thousand words, they say. A single image, glimpsed for only the briefest of moments, can be enough to bring to the surface a flood of emotions so effectively suppressed for so long. Which state is better? Is it better to suppress the anger and pain, to try to get past it in the hopes that better will come? There is no talking through it. The past can't be changed. Can it ever really be overcome? Each time this memory is brought to the fore, all I can do is try to rationalize it, try to reason that the situation was such that it was all but destined to occur, but it's hard not to recognize that little - if anything - has really changed. If nothing has changed, how do I move forward?