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February 2009

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Yay for selling Vagina Monologues tickets.

All things come to an end. I intuitively and intellectually understand that, and my rational, independent self can accept that. But that's just some far-off, ambiguous thing, it doesn't actually happen. That, however, is a lie. It does happen, it is happening, and when you see that period at the end of your proverbial sentence rapidly approaching, it hits you - hard - it knocks the wind out of you. And no matter how much you tell yourself it's okay, or that it's not actually real, or that you ca delay it - you're lying to yourself. And that realization, that knowledge, is numbing, it's completely destructive - nothing else matters and you can't be bothered to do anything except fight it. In doing so, however, you're only exacerbating the situation, pouring salt into a rapidly deepening wound - you're spiraling out of control.

And as much as you say that you don't care about th distance or the time or the pain - you do. Even if you believe you can wait, that this can work and that you're willing to endure, you really know, deep down, that you're lying to make yourself and those involved feel better. To delay the inevitable "it's over."

So how much longer will this continue? How much longer are you going to deceive before you finally break and ruin everything anyway?