On March 3, I returned from San Antonio. We got back to the airport, collected our luggage, and went back home. I was exhausted from the week. The stress of being with K, the emptiness of being without Sir, the happiness for my son’s accomplishments, all combined to make me kind of numb.
That, and I’d been regretting just a little bit that I’d told Sir what I was feeling. How is he able to do that? Why do I let him?
I didn’t actually know how things would turn out with that one and I was a little scared. I know what I said, I know what he said..but saying and believing aren’t always the same you know?
What if things were different now? What if they weren’t? Somehow, I think things should be different, but I’m also a little sad if they are. I like the way things have been going. Maybe too much.
Why do I even think of this shit when I'm this tired? I know how I get. Take a fucking nap. Things will look better tomorrow. I probably won’t feel so weird. I hope.