Are You Mine?” Yes. “are

My Radar, After All These Years Of Sanity, Is Still Off When It Comes To What People Do Or Don't Mean.

It Is Madness. And If You Don't Know Who You Are, Or If Your Real Self Has Drifted Away From You With The Undertow, Madness At Least Gives You An Identity. It's The Same With Self-loathing. You're Probably Just Normal And Normal-looking But That's Not A Real Identity, Not The Way Ugliness Is. Normality, Just Accepting That You're Probably Normal-looking, Lacks The Force Field Of Self-disgust. If You Don't Know Who You Are, Madness Gives You Something To Believe In.

Time Heals All Wounds. And If It Doesn't, You Name Them Something Other Than Wounds And Agree To Let Them Stay.

I Still Believe That You Truly Find Yourself Not In Travel, But In Other Human Souls.

I Finally Accept That Not Only Do I Not Understand The Death Of My Relationship, But I Do Not Need To. These Men Were Good And Kind To Me, They Loved Me And I Loved Them Back And The Shock At The Finish Holds No Wisdom. The Revelation Is Not That I Lost Them, But That I Had Them.