Fishes DO need bicycles.

Lordy mercy, the more I read on this blog the more I keep nodding my head, saying to the empty room "I know, right?!?". I mean it is eery.

On Tuesday, I was still having a hard time with basic life functions, like say, eating. I showed up to that interview having ingested nothing but dark chocolate M&Ms and Diet Pepsi for two full days. Jittery and constantly on the verge of tears. I was still crying when I fell asleep and crying when I woke up, and crying at many inconvenient intervals between. Like at intersections if the light took too long to change, while pumping gas at the Shell station, or in line at the bank. In New York, no one would have noticed. Here, they ask if I'm okay. "Allergies," I say. Because everyone here has allergies.

I cannot tell you how much I appreciate the kind, healing words you've left here. I appreciate them, but to tell you the truth, I am not at all surprised by them. Because I know that there are good, caring people out there - people who experience life in the same kaleidescope of emotions, who love and hurt and trust and mourn as I do. It's why I continue to blog; I love sharing what makes us human.

Three years ago, I was embroiled in a horribly dysfunctional relationship with a person whose behavior could, at best, be described as amoral, and at worst, just a hair shy of deliberately cruel. And because at the time, I was too busy hating myself for not having enough of a backbone, I didn't deal with things. Not really. One day, almost two years later, I woke up and realized I was mad. Really, bone-deep angry. And it was like poison. In the time that it took me to understand and process that nasty toxic hate (and it was months), not a single one of my friends uttered anything even remotely so calloused as, "get the hell over it." I am thankful every single day that they chose me, as I chose them.