Best I can tell, I woke up sad this morning from restless dreams about feelings I miss. Plans have been made to go to Maine, and once I swallow I raise an eyebrow at how caught up I am in surviving. I’m far closer to hitting that rut that I had ever hoped to, but I can’t convince myself otherwise. J and I talked a lot today about my idealizing M, and how that she likely felt that I believed she was someone more than who she believed she was, and this created an uncommunicated expectation. Other information seems to confirm that she generally wasn’t or isn’t interested in putting time into relationships, which should serve as more than it does to my own feelings. Which makes me frustrated with myself.

I talked to dad today, he wanted to know what was wrong. When I talked to J, I said I was exhausted, which is an emotional thing for me, where I feel like I don’t have any more to give anyone. When I talked to M today, I just said I was sad. I’m not depressed, clinically or otherwise, I have plenty of motivation and I accomplish much, I’m just frustrated with feeling much more excited about fantasy than anything I’m accomplishing. I want to say “what is the point” but it carries such cliche. I don’t have any problem knowing why I want to do things, or feeling good about them after. Just, perhaps, I’m thinking about too many big questions too early in my life.