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I think it was yesterday, or maybe it was the day before - you see, days have been flowing into each other the last bunch of months, what with how busy I keep myself - I caught myself being taken aback by how at peace I feel.
Right now, I am /so/ incredibly comfortable in my own skin. In my own person. In my own life. Everything is glazed with this overwhelming right-ness, and I'm not quite sure what to do with it. Or if I should so anything with it. Or if most people feel this way all the time and I just didn't know it until semi-recently.
I don't ever really recall being overly unhappy or miserable. Yes, there were times (like when I lived in icky Maine) when I was sad, or depressed, but I tried to keep fairly positive, and do fun things, and see friends as much as I could. And maybe there was the fact that I always felt like I was required to put on a happy face, since, well, I had a decent job, and a family that loved me, and a significant other and all of that. I also never really thought about (or allowed myself to think about?) the wrong-ness of my situation.
When we all went to Wall Street on New Years Eve, for a brief moment I had a flashback of all of those times, during my senior year of college, when I would go to Chameleon (a club on Long Island somewhere) with the boys next door and hook up with various and sundry girls on the weekends that A. was not visiting me (or I was not visiting him). Funny that the last time I remember these feelings, these tangible surges of right-ness, was when I was living a life behind another life's back.
Right now, I am /so/ incredibly comfortable in my own skin. In my own person. In my own life. Everything is glazed with this overwhelming right-ness, and I'm not quite sure what to do with it. Or if I should so anything with it. Or if most people feel this way all the time and I just didn't know it until semi-recently.
I don't ever really recall being overly unhappy or miserable. Yes, there were times (like when I lived in icky Maine) when I was sad, or depressed, but I tried to keep fairly positive, and do fun things, and see friends as much as I could. And maybe there was the fact that I always felt like I was required to put on a happy face, since, well, I had a decent job, and a family that loved me, and a significant other and all of that. I also never really thought about (or allowed myself to think about?) the wrong-ness of my situation.
When we all went to Wall Street on New Years Eve, for a brief moment I had a flashback of all of those times, during my senior year of college, when I would go to Chameleon (a club on Long Island somewhere) with the boys next door and hook up with various and sundry girls on the weekends that A. was not visiting me (or I was not visiting him). Funny that the last time I remember these feelings, these tangible surges of right-ness, was when I was living a life behind another life's back.
