Waiting for the long night to pass and looked back at my considerably old posts. Thought I’d laugh at how silly and over-dramatic I was in various situations, but it wasn’t funny. Instead I found myself getting twisted inside. Something was touching a very raw nerve.

Most of what I blogged about are mistakes. Huge mistakes. In retrospect that is. And as much as I’d like to say I never regret anything no matter how horrid the experience was, I do regret most of it. Yes, so my past has made me who I am today. Good or bad – it remains subjective. But I’d rather not have had all that time, energy and emotions wasted.

Right guy first time, last time? Lifelong career from the very beginning? Ack. All down the drain. The list would never end.

I don’t know if anyone actually reads this anymore. Why do we blog anyway? I guess, we hope that in doing this someone will come by and say “I feel that was too! Exactly that way!” and then we won’t feel so alone. Sad and pathetic eh?

I’m actually a very fail girlfriend. 😡 No, I’m not looking for someone to rebut that statement. Sigh. I’m sorry Jet.