I'm just like a cat on a hot tin roof.

These feelings are nothing new. Rarely and unpredictably they flow into my system taking hold of everything I do. They are feelings of complete and total isolation, even surrounded as I always seem to be, with dozens are familiar faces. 

Certainly it's just the time of year, certainly it's nothing more than my body and soul embracing the hint of autumn that has begun to creep its way into my small world. Certainly it's the music, the smells,  and the overbearing longing for adventure that brings me every year to my knees. 

Tears don't help at all, laughter is just as bad, and screaming only proves to make me seem even more mentally ill than I already do. So I retreat into my own mind, and there I spend hours on end there asking questions and caring out long drawn out conversations trying to unravel this mystery. In the end, however, I'm only talking to myself.

What happened to me? I'm normally so sure of things. Yet, his blatant disregard for anything I may need and her obvious lack of devotion, have left me feeling crippled, begging for attention. 

God! Can't I move forward? Must I always fall back into the same traps? 

If I've learned anything over the past three years its this, everything and nothing changes.