what do I want to write about?
sometimes just the clicking of the keyboard is enough to me. It almost doesn't matter what the content is, I just like the feeling of my fingers knowing where to go (with a small tapping/click attached to the..satisfying confidence) it really is quite an esoteric sensation.
I could write about all that I've learned about in love and relationships, but...it has the potential of getting long and redundant. Then again, that will mean there will be more tapping...so...ok.
It's easy to point out the faults of another.
But, what I failed to recognize was that the faults I was seeing were all shared between Dean and I. I was seeing in him what I couldn't stand about myself.
Yes, there is a old quote that fits perfectly with that, but in hopes of not sounding like a stupid hipster, I will refrain from quoting anyone, unless totally needed.
Anyway, what amounted from the months of deliberation (which I wish I could've realized in the beginning to spare us both from the tears and over-reactions mostly acted out by me) is this: pure and total frustration.
I was trying to delegate Dean's life because I couldn't really delegate my own, and the way he was "treating" me was a direct parallel to the way so casually treat others.
It was far more eye opening for me (maybe) than him. Yes, yes, "taste of my own medicine" fits perfectly here.
I will continue on later.
my battery (both physically and metaphorically) are running low.