Love Dumpster Diving.

Someone asked why the things we love hurt us.
I suppose it is because the things we love and the things we care about are the things that can hurt us.  I feel like I have a hole in my chest right now because something that I cared about, something that I wanted fell apart and all I can do is keep moaning about it.  My fucking brain is consumed by all of it and it is pissing me off. 
So I dump all of this shit here so that it might stay out of my head.  This electronic world is like the trash bin for all of my obsessive thoughts.  It would be nice to have something else to say, something else to think about.  Then again, where I am now is better than where I was four or five weeks ago.  My obsession is better than my depression and I am not pondering killing myself every day.  That is a step up.  I should grab that thread and attempt to make a rope and climb my way out of this shit. 

I still think about her, not the new her, but the old her.  I blame her for this.  Thanks to her I feel shit again.  I seem to have lost the ability to not give a shit and to lock my emotions down.  I am hoping that I will see a benefit of this at some point.  It seems to only be making me crazy.  I am working on finding that not-giving- shit-place again.  Not much success as of yet, but hopefully soon.  The last time I was like this was with this girl Jill.  She crushed me pretty hard.  After her I just fucked a lot and didn't really care.  It was great.  I am getting the impression that I am too old for that now.  It may just be too difficult to find women near my age that will just have hook ups and move on. 
It's also difficult to believe that doing that will have any sort of real anything. 
Something real is what I am looking for.

If I haven't thrown all of that away.