I give up....give in...whatever

Note: This was written while coming out of a particularly scary hypoglycemic episode. I'm leaving it up because it was therapeutic to write, and expresses how I feel sometimes.

I've been told by my three wisest confidantes that I should fight the good fight, hold strong for the long haul, that my patience will be rewarded with some kind of gift of internal strength. Well, I don't got it. I know that I have to be patient in order for life to turn around, but there's just been too much crap for one month.

I give up. I quit. I'm throwing in the towel. I'm going against everything I stand for (i.e. my insistence that nothing should be thrown away) because maybe what I stand for is impossible. Maybe I have impossible standards. This wouldn't surprise me. I'm no catch. I'm too intense, too much, too everything. That's how I come to the place I am right now. I'm too much for my own good.

I'm sorry dear readers, to disappoint you with my humanness. But I messed up. I fell in love with someone I had no right falling in love with. And now I'm stuck with this mess I've made, a mess of my own making, a mess that no one else can see but me. The mess is in my soul. Before August hit me like a freight train, I was having an amazing relaxing summer. I was so burnt out on school that I allowed myself to do whatever, whenever, and it was wonderful. I was happy and confident. I was my best self. Then I foolishly allowed that best self to go out and see other people-big mistake.

Lock up your daughters. Raise them to be nuns. Love is death; it's a killer. It brings no good to anyone. Just ask every tortured lover in the world. Romance? It's pain. Love? It's an illusion brought by hormones. Commitment? Good luck, because you're not that easy to live with either.

Honesty is clearly my best quality. I welcome all commentary.