Nearly two weeks. I feel like I'm in limbo. "Purgatory is the condition or process of purification in which the souls of those who die in a state of grace are made ready for heaven." (wikipedia)
I've gotten most all of the craziness out of my system. And for the first time feel like maybe I do have someone to support me. And actually realizing that maybe I don't have one single person, but instead have everyone.
What are those things called at airports that are basically a flat escalator. You can either walk and go super human fast, or stand still waiting for the belt to carry to closer to your destination. My belt goes on forever like an infinity pool. Atmospheric perspective blur and fade the distance. Currently in my head, the reality of it all doesn't exist. As I move slowly towards the scheduled day, I can no longer feel anything about it. Playing a psychological game with myself, I try to focus on the negatives of these stupid breasts. I start to hate them. I resent their implications. Not just for being filled with inevitable cancer, but for being the source of attention for so many years and getting me in all sorts of trouble. Part of me wants them gone now, as soon as possible.
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