Blueblerry blast, for the faint hearted?

It's time.
As I clock on at work and see the tiny shred of paper requesting "Orig Blberry Bl" sitting vulnerably on the bench, I feel something. My heart flutters a little, but, you know, as if that means anything. But really, does anything?

I run my fingers through my hair on occasion, remembering how someone else used to play with my hair for me. Although, the fact that I don't know that it was really for me and not, just because. The thing is, as sad as I may have been about it all, as overdramatised as I made it, and as much ice-cream and care and affection consumated to overcome the state of overwhelmed introversion, how can I honestly say that I was being true myself?

I'm certain that I was hardly 100% myself, as awful as that seems, how could I be? 100% would mean, completely and fully involved, it would mean love, and even the "c-word." So, I was wrong in being outraged that someone could say something so soul numbing to me, and mean it. Well, really, the only real saddening part of the ordeal is the fact that I could be bothered, and me alone.

I felt at a loss, very confused, hurt and lost without that extra something that I thought he gave to me. The fact is, It had been gone for a while, and enevidably would not return in a flash, because there was so much of "it" lacking. By "it" I mean, that special something that I think was there a long time ago, though I cannot be sure. Afterall, maybe it was never there, atleast on my side. Maybe the whole swirl of emotions was my reaction to not encountering any of "it" in so long, that at a glance, I reacted so rashly, and in the spur of the moment, things turned out for the apparent "better."

It doesn't seem to make much sense, but it really does. The past few months had just been a part of my progression through this whole relationships thing, and I made mistakes, and now I'm learning. So, I have to say, although the explosion of emotions was not worth it, in terms of my emotional health, but in the long run, I think it was definately for the better.

Because, I was happy, not that I'm not anymore, but there was great moments, and memories that I'll keep in my heart, and my inbox, and all over my wall, and in my little book of secrets, all of which I do not regret. And, despite the pain, which may be refered to as "heartbreak", I really don't think it was that bad.

So, now all I have to worry about is my currently flittering heart full of love and compasion in the form of that "weird look" which I apparently have, my near-silent hummings and singings of emotions, hugs that last much too long, stories of beautiful people and things complete with excess adjectives, stupid blogs, and most importantly, my friends. They are my heart, and I love them for it.

I pour up, proceeding to spill access of the blue, thick drink a little.
"Blueberry Blast," I say in a clear, precise voice. "Have a nice day"