.25.

I've been feeling rather odd lately, to be honest.

These past few months, it is almost like I was forced into another gear, rather than smoothly shifted, and jolts of electricity are popping up here and there to tell me that things aren't as alright as they should be.

Which isn't to say that things are bad. In fact, things not being bad is most of the problem.

That was horrible grammar, but let's get to the point right now.

I am a being whose very reason for moving forward is a profound feeling of being discontent with life. And for the past 21 years, it has always been especially based around being discontent with my place in the life of other people. My parents, my friends, my lovers and those whose love for me is unrequited, my enemies and those who just straight out ignore me. And this has been such a year for change!

I lost interest in my enemies, in my past lovers, my relationship with my parents is more stable now that I neither live with them nor show them disrespect for all that they have done for me in the past, I no longer find myself responsible for the personal happiness of my friends and, of course, I have a man who loves me as much as I love him.

It's like that story has come to close. There is no more drama, there are better things to focus on. And yet I can't seem to pull myself out of this rut of expectation, out of focusing on the past as if it means something. And so, since there is nothing left of this story it's as though I'm just staring at the white screen cast off by a projector whose film has run out. Just staring and waiting. And nothing is coming.

I can't believe I can angst over having nothing to angst over!