I couldn't write. Not about myself, not about funny or interesting links, not even a single story about a fantasy world to lose myself for a bit. It's not easy when all of yourself is focused inwards, trying to sort out the big tangle of feelings. Writing about it helps; but in a way, that's very difficult, trying to find the balance between private and public, wanting to tell somebody about what you're going through but not wanting to tell somebody in particular, nor wanting to say too much.

I've been tidying my room these past few days, moving boxes and piles of stuff from under the old bookshelves and evicting dustbunnies, tossing out what needs to go and making space for new things.

Been trying to do that in my feelings too, straightening out the knotted up mess, evicting the dustbunnies... not choking up and crying anymore when I encounter something to be put aside. Making space for new things. I need to wake up, and remember, and realize that what I thought existed wasn't really there. All I have is memories, and those are behind me. I will remember, but I will not let it block my path.

And I'm fine. I'll be fine.