"Bleeding deeply", my painting that I am not happy with
Warning: confessional. Don’t read if drama bores you.
I told myself I wouldn’t post about this.
First, because the internet is full of people who don’t care. Second, there are a few people who do care, and this would worry them. Third, I pride myself on my self-sufficiency and it’s fucking embarassing to admit that I am in emotional pain.
But I am.
I woke up crying last night and I have been crying all day. I managed to make two half-assed posts (and this will be a third) through a haze of tears, which I spent earlier today feeling sort of proud of, though it seems meaningless at this point.
What happened, you ask?
I was dumped by somebody I really like. That sounds like such an ordinary thing. It’s happened to us all. It happens every day.
It wasn’t even in person. It was over the internet, which nobody should take seriously, because there aren’t real people behind those pixels. Right? It’s not the same as Real Life. Or so everybody says. Maybe I’m more sensitive about such things because of being so isolated in real life. People don’t even speak English here.
But it’s somebody I really, really liked, and whose work I admired, and being sort-of-friends with them meant a lot to me.
Exiled Stardust 