make the bad headache monster go away, please?

Whilst I was at work today, I thought of all
manner of things to write about. Now, as I sit
in front of the keyboard and monitor, my mind's
gone blank as a sheet. Absolutely nothing.
Arse.

Add on top of that, this tremendous headache which
I seem to have developed on my way home and I am
not the most cheerful girl in the world.

Not that I am to begin with, at any rate.

Biiiiig badda BOOM!

The first morning sip of Earl Grey stings the
inside corner of my upper lip like nothing
else. I've managed to put quite a little dent in it, by gnawing away using the tip of my canines. I should most likely stop doing this. But, I won't.
Just as how I'm now drinking a glass of orange
juice, for the acidic bite of pain imbedded in
my tender flesh.

Perfect metaphor for my life, if you ask me. Which
you didn't. Actions which cause knowingly cause
pain, but yet are still performed. Chewing on my
lips. Nervous picking at hangnails. Getting
tattooed. Falling in love. Throwing myself at the
brick wall of someone else's heart.

What programming was implanted in my brain at
birth that causes me to do things of this
nature over and over?

I'm turning inwards more every day that passes.
No longer as outspoken as I used to be, most of
my time is spent thinking quietly to myself about
things which would only concern me. I rarely
even wake up long enough to listen to other's
words, when before I would hang onto every one
in such a death-grip that people would refer to
me as obsessed. Catatonic state and stare.
Occasional smile and nod.

This isn't me. I don't want it to be me. But, I'm
finding it extremely difficult to be otherwise.

Orphan's words and non-words are razor sharp and
quick. I find myself holding onto them throughout
the day, despite not wanting to. Richard's wrap
me in a blanket of security/anxiety. I revel in
them, at the same time pushing them away. Wee
Heather is comfort. Stellar is laughter.

Everything else, just about, is plain irritation
and intrusive on my own little world.

With Google's Usenet archives being up and dating
back to 1996 (for the groups I searched, at
least), I find myself in trouble. I pour through
them, wandering amidst the dead names. I stumble
over Richard's ex and greenly narrow my eyes.
Finding my own old posts, I wince. Orphan's
are a constant source of fascination. He's the
only person I've ever spoken with who had the
ability to make me hate my own writing for
its simplicity. He takes the English language
by the hair and bends it to his will.

Earlier this evening, I messaged him with a plea
to make the evil headache monster leave me be.
He ignored me and I've been in a foul mood ever
since.

Wee Heather and I briefly discussed the
possibility of having strong feelings for more
than one person at the same time. In the past,
this has given me nothing but trouble. Case in
point, Darren.

(digression: the television program my mother
is watching is playing a song which was done
at Dez's father's funeral. This has made me
begin to cry.)

Darren, above everyone else in my life, came
the closest to destroying me. He had the utmost
power over my heart. A single word from him
could send me choiring along to the angels, or
plummeting back to Earth in despair. Darren
made me travel across the world, forsake the
bonds of marriage and my own code of morality,
debase myself to his every whim, and beg for more.
I don't understand the puppet strings he had me
attached to. I don't ever want to comprehend,
either. It scared me, quite frankly. Scared me
to death and back again.

I never want to feel that again. Ever.

He filled me full of so many pretty promises and
words. He told me I was beautiful. Called me his
angel. Said he would never stop loving me, never
leave. However, he didn't stop to think of
the possibility that I wasn't the grandiouse
goddess he had imagined up in his silly, bald
skull. And when he finally discovered that I was
indeed not divine, I was given the proverbial
boot. And in the worst possible manner
conceivable, at least to me.

"I'm not in love with you anymore."

Somehow, in the meandering of this, I've lost
my train of thought. Right. Wee Heather and my
discourse on the loving of more than one person
at one time.

She asked me if it was such a bizarre concept
to me, to care about multiple people like that.
And to me, it is. Mostly.

We also talked of how circumstances, being what
they are at the moment, may have guided me into
other avenues. I may love Richard more than I
thought possible, but I fear for and despair of
our future together. I rarely have any hope of
seeing him again. Nasty, cruel thoughts. But,
they're honest and true. Something that I've
always prided myself on being.

And I've no idea how to handle any of it. I don't
see any paths leading from this into happiness.
I see only more heartbreak.

Perhaps it's only a passing attraction that wane
after a few more months. I don't know. I don't
presume to try and know.

But, my heart feels like a whore right now.