I'm kicking myself hard with whatever life I have left in me.

For some reason, I decided to go through all my files and collect pictures of all my ex-girlfriends. I think I originally had this idea to make a montage page with the "To All The Girls I've Loved Before" MIDI playing in the background. Yes, fun fun fun. I have way too much time on my hands at night... I know.
Anyway, so I come across the Niniane files and then.... everything flies out the window (in my head). I found too much shit that should have been locked away with a combination I couldn't crack until the year 2035. Blogs, stories, conversations... Jesus Christ! I Found the actual fucking conversation where she first told me she had feelings for me! Soon after, came across the one where she told me she didn't have any feelings for me. Pictures, upon pictures, ranging from times where I barely knew her, to her trip here, to my trip there. Some people damn the pacific... at the time I was damning 3,000 miles of dirt, sand, concrete, and metal. Now I damn my trigger-happy clicking finger for saving these moments.

Emotionally, I feel like I am one of the few remaining bodies underneath the WTC rubble. Still alive, after being under there for what seems like eternity, but unable to move. I will wake up every so often, thinking I was in bed, at home, and it was all just a dream. Then I shake off the last bits of unconsciousness and realize:

"Damn. I'm still here."