Raining on Sunday

Sundays are probably the one day of the week where I feel the most, I dunno, out of sorts, I guess you could say? It is usually the day where I have little to nothing to do, and while that can be a good thing - especially today, as I feel like warmed-over poo - it can also work against me. A restless mind doesn't need so much time on its own!

The morning didn't have a great start as I woke from a dream that stirred up some old emotions. You know, the kind that are better off avoided until you can afford the therapy you'll need to get through them? I'm not sure where the dream came from - possibly the peanut butter sandwich I had just before bed. Regardless of it's origin, these old memories and feelings and possible regreats have managed to stick with me since I first opened my eyes, and has weighed a little heavy on my heart.

Then, after getting up, I bid a quick farewell to my brother as he left to meet up with his new sweetie before heading in to work. The whole 'my brother having a new sweetie' thing is definitely not the problem... she sounds great, he deserves to be happy, and I selfishly hope I get to meet her before she leaves the city for the summer. What does make me sad, though, is that he gets to meet up with this girl, sit across from her at a table in a coffee shop, talk with her, hold her hand, kiss her good-bye... he gets to be with the girl who makes his heart swell and spin, and, well, I don't. And the four-year-old inside of me who wants what everyone else around her has stamps her foot and says "not fair!"

This would be the part of the lamentation where Kelley would say, "That's what you get for liking someone who lives in a different city." She'd also have a few other choice things to add to that, but she's still working on the FULL lecture so I shant get too far ahead of myself.

The point IS, I get lonely on Sundays. And I don't like being lonely.