Life as an Extreme Sport

No Such Thing As Winning

For what should have been a “good” night, I feel remarkably empty inside, and very much like curling up and crying. I don’t know if it’s the end of quarter, this fun group is probably going to break apart now, blues, or… no. Scratch that. I do know exactly what it is, and there’s not a great way to address it in any sort of vague manner. Would it suffice to say that I really only ask that people be nice? Probably not – I’d have my words, “don’t take me so seriously”, thrown back at me (again).

Why does that softness that is there have to turn to hardness when there’s more than one or two people around? That’s what I want to know, and it’s what I’ll likely never get the answer to. If nothing else, the answer will never come because the quarter is over and I’d be willing to place money: that’s all she wrote.

That’s all she wrote.

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