Negative. 

The weight of the word was compounded by both the discomfort and distaste with which it was uttered and the shock of the realization that a person with whom I had always felt so comfortable, been so candid, and felt so close to didn't really understand me at all.

You're so negative. 

Wow. Has this been brewing long? Has it been there the whole time? Are we not as close as I thought we were? Will we ever be? And, perhaps most importantly, will I ever truly be myself with you again?

The answers to those questions have yet to play themselves out, but in the time since they were uttered, I have certainly censored myself, and there have been multiple occasions on which I wish I had. It took me until tonight to realize that this is the place where I can safely put the things that I can't always put out in the world. 

For the record, I don't consider myself negative. I guess that I have often used this as a space to note things that are negative, and in my walking, talking, non-digital life, I note these things as well, to certain people. But talking it out is the way I deal with negativity. I think shitty experiences shared become less shitty somehow, and often take on a comical aspect. I think I've always been this way. At least I have for as long as I can remember. Only rarely have I felt completely misunderstood about it, and only three times can I distinctly remember being shocked by another person's response to it. 

I feel quite shaken by the whole experience. I've been meaning to get back here anyway, but now I feel it is a matter of need more than desire. I'm hoping that getting back to writing will keep me off of the therapist's couch, because frankly I have better things to do with my money.

Apologies for the abrupt seriousness. We will return to our regularly scheduled programming as soon as I've gotten some sleep. For now, I'll just go ahead and slip the mask back on...