And, dear friends, I am back. Back to my usual, annoyingly optimistic, delusional self. Back to writing in snippets because it’s the only way I manage to come up with non-angsty posts, anyway. Back to feeling like, really, I’ve been through a hella lot worse, and whatever PMS or my pre-midlife crisis angst entails, I am actually looking forward to the future, even if it is too often shrouded in dark clouds that give no way even for a ray of sunlight.
Cause of restored optimism, unknown. But my sources — i.e., these instincts that have made me want to encase myself in glass and abstain from human contact to avoid the consequences of me being too presumptuous too many times before — tell me that it may have something to do with learning how it’s like to be truly honest about what you need at this particular point in your life, shunning temptations to opt instead for the easy way out, knowing what you are worth and working like a madwoman by juggling two jobs, maintaining a GPA, and keeping contact with those who matter most.