Surprisingly uplifting for an apocalyptic zombie movie

It was approximately two years ago that I walked down a hiking trail and told my companion that I was trying to become less in touch with my feelings. I was kidding, sort of. Now I nightmare most nights of the week, though my days are happier and calmer then they have been in quite sometime. There's definitely something going on in there. What? Fuck if I know.

I've learned a little about myself since then, things that seem fairly obvious, but that I needed to be in the right frame of mind (or at least facing irrefutable evidence) to accept. First off, yeah, I do tend towards the dramatic. "No Duh!", you are, no doubt, thinking if you've read any of this blog at all. It doesn't seem so obvious from the inside you know. Most of that dramatic, grand gesture stuff is trapped in my head and only comes out when I'm alone and writing, or under extreme relationship or work duress. Normally, I'm pretty level, and I like it that way. It's not, mind you, that I like the trauma with the nashing and the rending of the hair and the all that. I just have a bit of a penchant for the big romantic ideas. "Passion", I suppose I'd prefer to call it; perhaps "intensity", but let's call a spade a spade. When she told me all the time that I was being dramatic, she wasn't entirely wrong. I didn't like her kind of drama though. Lying, mistrust, jealousy, cheating. I'm more looking for the love of my life, don't want to live without you, do anything for you kind.

I'll let you know what turns up.