First, my hard drive on my home computer failed at the end of last week, leaving me dependent on access from work and from friends.
Second, Jeff broke up with me this morning. I think it will be understandable that it is going to be very difficult for me to continue writing about the vacation with his family.
And no, I'm not okay with it. I'm not dealing with it well. I'm pretty damn miserable, actually. But I'm also well aware that misery and hysterical sobbing and the rest have a very limited tolerance, and I used up my lifetime quota the last time around.
I don't want sympathy. I don't want to talk about it at all. Most of all, I don't want it to be real and I don't want to have to try to pick up the pieces of a shattered life.
We don't all get what we want, though.