Saturday night turned out a bit to wet but all in all it was lots of fun. I should've skipped that last bottle of red wine though, sunday was harsh. So so harsh. But the upside was that I in the extremely drunken state I (helped by Amalie) arrived home in managed to take my contacts out and fall into bed without washing off my makeup. And late sunday afternoon my new eyeshadow still looked perfect! Thank you Urban Decay!
Apart from that, everything about the house goes straight to the house blog, no longer seventh heaven, only 22 Vicar now.
And when it comes to me, I'm still wrestling, and I realized I cope very badly with rejection. I guess everyone does, but it's so much harder when it's completely unexpected. It really gets to me. So I'm wrestling all these different things, unwelcome emotions that cast their shadows on my otherwise so bright day. I'm not feeling lonely, I don't long for any companion, temporary or lifelong, I don't want anyone to share stuff with, I'm completely happy having my bed to myself!
So why, for heavens sake, do I still miss? Why do I think about people that I know are not interested, or to emotionally fucked up, or simply just in the wrong country? I think it's just about the fact that I can't handle the rejection. That the fact that I am unwanted, and so badly unwanted that I'm not even worth being personally informed of this, is more painful than the actual loss of the people who reject me. Not so strange I guess, no one likes being harshly dumped. And if you feel like going Freud on me I guess it can be traced back to my childhood (no names mentioned).
The thing is, the person I miss the most has'nt really rejected me. But I still miss him.