It was SO Miranda Hobbes of me.
I've been in such a funk lately, and the more I try to figure out the reasons why, the funkier I feel. Truth is, it felt good to eat that cake. Comforting. Relaxing. Until the moment I realized half of it was gone. 30 minutes later, my stomach is starting to ache from all of the sugar. I'm almost positive I won't sleep tonight, even though I've been tempted to crawl into bed since 7pm.
I didn't want to eat half a cake tonight. I wanted to be held. I'm so longing for someone to put their arms around me and not let go until I tell them, only to hold on for a second longer after that. I actually tried to hug myself earlier. I wish I was kidding. It didn't have the desired effect--I must work on my self-hugging skills immediately. I have no idea what's wrong with me or how to work through whatever is going on in my head; all I know is that I want to be hugged, held so tightly I can barely breathe, more than anything in the world.
I'm trying to be gentle with myself as I work through this seemingly never-ending rough patch. But half a cake? Really?
Breathe. Tomorrow is another (sugarless) day.