No matter how long is given for emotional wounds to heal, they'll always have their scar; that little, pesky reminder of the pain that was once there. More often than not though, that pain hasn't become a scar yet. It's nothing but a scab of a wound that's easily torn back open. After it's open, you do your damnedest to get it to heal right the next time. Enough analogy, though, because now it's starting to sound like an emo kid ranting with a razor.
I think I can feel my life force (my Chi, if you will) draining through my feet to the ground. Kansas is trying to devour me with its blahness.
Catharsis is a good word. I'm searching for mine.
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One word: Colorado.
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