I haven't written anything more than email. It's funny how I want John to be interested, but when he is, I withdraw. I don't like how he shows interest though. I guess I don't even feel he really is. My strange logic says if there is nothing for him to pretend he's interested in, I won't get hurt.
But it's not just him. I'm distracted. And troubled. I don't know. That's what it really is. I don't know, and I don't care to find out. Not right now. I'm not particularly unhappy. Nor depressed. Just kind of unmotivated, if that's even a word. It's not that I'm completely stagnant, like so many times before. I've managed to keep some structure to life.
I don't even want to write about any of this now. This is stupid.
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One Year Ago Today: