I am deflecting a part of my life that I really wanted to attach to. It's a decision not made in a vacuum, and one that hurts with case-hardened brilliance, but it's one of those that-which-does-not-kill-us things, a sort of self-imposed gauntlet.
Why do I do this?
Simple. I've been burning too much time and energy whining and being a bitch, and I have other stuff I need to do. Making a conscious decision to stay the hell away is me taking control-- or trying to take control, of this aspect of my life anyway.
Losing you was the best thing I ever had to do.
To embrace my acceptace of monsterhood, I am growing tentacles.