I have this problem... I truly and completely believe that no one cares. I don't keep in touch with people because I don't want to intrude in their lives. When I do, I spend more time battling guilt and worry that I'm being a pest than I do enjoying the fact I'm talking to a friend. I miss my friends and I can't do anything about it.

Love stories

I'm currently reading "An Affair to Remember" about Katharine Hepburn and Spencer Tracy. It's subtitle is "The Remarkable Love Story..." etc. It set me to wondering. Are all love stories remarkable? Remarkable doesn't necessarily mean good or happily ended. It just means that it's worthy of being noted. Maybe it's the utterly hopeless romantic in me but I do think all love stories are worthy of note.


This is what comes of combining a half dozen romance novels and a female mind in the full sway of hormones.

"I want to do something that matters"

"Know in your stomach you're never alone"

Pretending it doesn't hurt or bother me sucks... Like... A lot...

Tuesday something felt wrong. I was off, everything was off. I couldn't figure out why so I chalked it up to hormones or some such and went on with my life. Wednesday I found out what was wrong. It was like this giant wave of wrongness crashing over my life and covering everything. Sometimes I manage to make the surface and can breathe but other times I struggle underwater, trying to take a breath and finding myself filled with something other than air. I'm scared and there doesn't appear to be a lifeguard on duty.