(This will be too big - open in new tab)
For those on SG Beta:
(Oooohhhh... journal pics can be 600 px wide on the new version. Awesome!)
Anyway, this is my Grumpy Piano Face. This is usually followed by WTF?!? I Don't Have Twelve Fingers on Each Hand, You Russian Freak Face.
Well, Polish in this case. I was playing (okay... attempting to play) Chopin.
-=-
Some people envy my ability to be honest and communicative at all times. I admit; it is a cherished quality.
Sometimes, though, it hurts like hell.
I had a friend ask why/how we've grown apart over the past two years. I told her why and didn't lie or smooth it over with, "Oh... you know... I've changed... It's not you; it's me..." and all that blah-blah-blah-ing. Part of me, however, does not like Me right now because I just hurt someone. As most of you know, hurting someone is numero uno on my list of Things I Do Not Want To Do. I often get sad for hours or days after hurting someone. After Matt and I broke up, I cried and felt sad longer than he did, and I was the one who ended it.
Perhaps it's my empathy. I know how much it hurts to be on the receiving end, so my instinct is to cushion the blow and say, "Oh... it's me; not you."
The larger part of me, however, knows how much I DESPISE being lied to. I would rather have the truth and deal with it than be lied to and find out later. The latter always hurts so much more and leaves me with an inability to trust people. So, I'm honest with people. I figure that if they didn't want the answer to a question, they wouldn't ask.
Still.
In other annoying news, I'm still getting Mommy pangs. They haven't gone away. They've only gotten worse. What the HELL is wrong with me? If this is my biological clock, I cannot and will not put up with another ... what ... fifteen years of this? What is the average age for menopause? Anyway, as much as I really would like kids, now is not an option.
You hear that, ovaries? Not an option!!!
For those on SG Beta:
(Oooohhhh... journal pics can be 600 px wide on the new version. Awesome!)
Anyway, this is my Grumpy Piano Face. This is usually followed by WTF?!? I Don't Have Twelve Fingers on Each Hand, You Russian Freak Face.
Well, Polish in this case. I was playing (okay... attempting to play) Chopin.
-=-
Some people envy my ability to be honest and communicative at all times. I admit; it is a cherished quality.
Sometimes, though, it hurts like hell.
I had a friend ask why/how we've grown apart over the past two years. I told her why and didn't lie or smooth it over with, "Oh... you know... I've changed... It's not you; it's me..." and all that blah-blah-blah-ing. Part of me, however, does not like Me right now because I just hurt someone. As most of you know, hurting someone is numero uno on my list of Things I Do Not Want To Do. I often get sad for hours or days after hurting someone. After Matt and I broke up, I cried and felt sad longer than he did, and I was the one who ended it.
Perhaps it's my empathy. I know how much it hurts to be on the receiving end, so my instinct is to cushion the blow and say, "Oh... it's me; not you."
The larger part of me, however, knows how much I DESPISE being lied to. I would rather have the truth and deal with it than be lied to and find out later. The latter always hurts so much more and leaves me with an inability to trust people. So, I'm honest with people. I figure that if they didn't want the answer to a question, they wouldn't ask.
Still.
In other annoying news, I'm still getting Mommy pangs. They haven't gone away. They've only gotten worse. What the HELL is wrong with me? If this is my biological clock, I cannot and will not put up with another ... what ... fifteen years of this? What is the average age for menopause? Anyway, as much as I really would like kids, now is not an option.
You hear that, ovaries? Not an option!!!
VIEW 4 of 4 COMMENTS
eli:
northern:
That's actually a really nice looking picture, even you do look a bit grumpy. 