because it could just be some OCD nonsense,

or it could be very real. very salient.

I know that I reeked of unprocessed uncommunicated

anger at Ihop today. perhaps beyond anger,

like morose self pitying misery.

I had realized in the car,

when I was asking myself how I felt,

that I feel sad and lonely

and maybe a little abandoned.

because I don’t feel like a priority.

and this might be where the thought

patterns come in. because I can go on

about whether it was ever established

that I would be a priority of hers or

whether I should really be feeling

this way when I know that this is

the way she operates. It’s just

this phrase: “I am not a priority”

and the implied “for her” that follows.

The good old, “It’s not about me.”

and then I have my reaction to that where

I flare up and say Well I have to be

a priority to me and so if she isn’t gonna

treat me like a priority then I need to

prioritize myself. all this stuff.

all because she didn’t come over friday night.

and probably some other things.

Don’t go to bed angry,

I think that’s the advice.

But what about crying yourself to sleep?





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