Tonight

Tonight all I can write is sentimental nonsense. None of it really matters, but writing it seems to help me.

I've been trying to remember; how dreadfully sick and torn apart I felt not so very long ago. But I can't. All I feel is...nothing. I'm not sure why. Tonight I should be singing with joy. I'm done. I'm free. I'm absolutely ready. But I don't feel anything. The memory of anger still lingers, but I don't want to feel that, not ever again. Then also, I can remember feeling joy, pure and sweet. It was beautiful.

Right now I just feel sort of hollow, and contrary to how it might seem, I'm enjoying it.

I'm going back there soon, that joyful place. I'm building something. I think it's a life of my own, but I'm not quite sure yet. I'm tired. I don't know if I can do this. But instead of doing what I would have a few months ago and staying up until three o'clock to cry about it, I believe I'll just go to bed and try to dream of pleasant things.