But no, I’m not blogging about Justin Bieber. Anne told me it was alright to blog about “my feelings”, even if I said I’ll probably be embarrassed about this post and have a really strong urge to delete it fifteen minutes from now. So if you get a chance to read this, good for you.
Apparently, I am no longer satisfied being unattached. I’m at that point where I want some kind of companionship.
I don’t know why I’m stressing out so much on emotional baggage. What is going on with me? I miss being content. I miss being perfectly satisfied with what I had. I miss being perfectly happy with myself.
I don’t want to care so much. I am making a big deal out of everything.
This. Needs. To. Stop.
PS. This post was supposed to make me feel better. Not give me a massive headache. UGH.
PPS. Maybe I just need to go out and have some fun. Dance therapy? Alcohol therapy? aldjalidjfoaijsdfpije