Love Painted Black

I'm chuckling with a woman thinking about the happy day we shared. The good old days don't last forever. Sometimes you look bad at things with fond memories. Other times it gets painted black.

I think there is literally a pearl jam song called Black about love getting painted black. It's a good song. I'm sure you've heard it.

I did Ashtanga yoga a few times. I felt like I'd injure myself while doing it. I was afraid I'd blow out my knees or slip and tear a muscle. Not really my cup of tea. But at the time it was a good experience. Now it reminds me of love gone bad, assuming it was ever love.

I guess a new girlfriend will help me forget about the tragic past relationship. The worst part about it is I genuinely loved her. I'm not sure what happened - but yeah, that was a trainwreck relationship. I did really love her, though. I hope she loved me too and it wasn't lies.

I just hope there were no sadistic intentions to hurt me and it was genuinely an accident. That's what everyone says. It was accidental. Unfortunately, my accusations are what destroyed not only the relationship, but also our friendship. It's too bad. It's time to move on.

Assuming she did want to hurt me and even conspired with others to do so, if they told me the truth right now it'd be a powder keg. I think if I found a new woman and love - I'd be less steaming angry - and less likely to react in a way I might later regret.