Bruises everywhere

A lot can happen in a seemingly normal day.

You can get a phone call from your sister, who chatters excitedly about getting a new kitten.

You can discover several bruises on your legs...and wonder where they came from...because you have no recollection of ever creating them.

You can also learn that some things, may in fact, never change.

You can accept this, and try to move on...and you can pout about it.

I will/may pout about it for a while....while I try to convince myself that I'll be fine...

I'll keep chanting in my head the words that Kale told me: "Why would you want to talk to somebody who doesn't want to talk to you?"

The answer? I don't know. Broken heart...old love....family ties. The innocence of my pain is overbearing...and I can't help but wonder if I'm being naive...and if I should simply : "let go," as they tell me to.

But what sort of "let go?" The kind where you stop thinking about it for a couple months until the other person comes around? Or the kind where I accept all circumstances, and when said person decides to come around...I forget my connection with them, and continue to move on...just as they had done with me?

Pain.

Ouch.