Oh my dear Braille-Reader, how I've lost myself in the murky dumps of my own self-imposed misery.

That's a pretty good opening line, right?

But on to the point, in such a vague sense: I'm never prepared. I've finally gotten a handle on the process, factoring out the immediate, knee-jerk response to all my worry and pain and anxiety. Because, to face it, I was already prepared for nothing, so what's the point of worrying about going back to it? You see? I'm not as dumb as I look.

Finally, however, I realize the plights of those that came before. The ones that looked at me with teary eyes while my blank face stared back at them. I suppose this is why I'm the one that feels all the more now. Or maybe I felt too much from the beginning, and being overwhelmed, locked those feelings away until I convinced myself they never existed. Either way, this boat has lost it's paddles and I'm floating now, for better or worse, to the end of this stream. It could dry up. It could lead to a waterfall of spiky, jagged rocks. Or it could lead out to the ocean and forever. Time and patience will tell, and though I wish and hope for so many things, I've adjusted my expectations to something more realistic, likely a little pessimistic to save myself in the end, yet save for the surprise of happiness.

I do, however, relish the fact that I'm not my usual self. Albeit, I've been a tad in the deep end of my emotions, but it's nice to feel again and know that I'm actually human. And know that others CAN effect me in positive ways. I only wish that I could manage those hopeless moments where I imagine everything crashing down around me. I wish I could have exactly what I want, when I want it. But that's not life. That's not realistic. And though I am a dreamer, I also understand reality and am bound by it's laws. But to be able to break a few every now and again, is that so much to ask?