"Time passes. Even when it seems impossible. Even when each tick of the second hand aches like the pulse of blood behind a bruise. It passes unevenly, in strange lurches and dragging lulls, but pass it does. Even for me."
With all of the unanticipated downtime from surgery, I, in my infinite wisdom, thought it wise to go back through my old journal entries and read. See how far I've come.
The problem is, I haven't really come all that far. In ten years - ten. years. - outside of a couple of college blurbs, my life has evidently only revolved around three things. One of which being my surgery/possible childless-laden future. That bothers me. No actually, that isn't what bothers me. What actually bothers me is that none of those three things has progressed anywhere. So the time spent mulling over them, attempting to make something out of them was...to what benefit?
....I feel like such a loser
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