the aftermath

When I find myself laughing sincerely at something I did, it’s a very obvious clue that I’m doing okay.

See, someone’s not too busy today. In the middle of amusing e-mail exchanges during office hours, I found myself typing this:

I’ve had too many mornings of disappointment because it just won’t go away; I was late to realize that all efforts to kill it were futile because I was protectively clutching it the whole time in my hands. So I just had to let it out and wash it off completely.

We still did not discuss it directly but I think we reached an agreement. It’s not just him; maybe I am, in truth, evading it also, albeit in a different form.

I think the e-mail exchange ended with us grabbing a few lines each from Panic at the Disco’s discography. I don’t know if he meant to send me the lines first (from Lying Is The Most Fun A Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off) but I certainly thought he did so I took something from That Green Gentleman.

I like him better this way. I like it better this way.

Now, let me go back to watching the earlier seasons of House, and working on my reading calendar. See, I’m back to normal.