So, since I have had free time lately, I have been doing a lot of thinking. And wondering. And yes, I guess you can say even dwelling (but I prefer not too). Memories are a tricky thing. I have been sorting through old e-mails, old diary entries, and old letters and just wondering. Wondering about myself mostly. What happened that day for me to write it. Because those that know me, when I write, I typically write how I feel-and it does come from the heart, but it is very atypical of me to write about what happened that made me feel the way I did.
So, as I look over diaries, letters, and e-mails I have an accurate description of when I'm mad or sad, or just plain frustrated, but I have no clue what happened to make me feel the way I did. And that bothers me.