Everything seems to come back to nesting…

After Chan- I was nestless, not completely but in the way an avian traveler would be seasonally displaced. Only I had materials, all the doubts- then built and growing. I harbored them in another, but what can one expect with a cradle of sour thistles? Like the therapist that dumped me, I was in a cycle. This sad home, with regrets for my nutrition and distraction for my conditioning. I never moved on here, although I learned little things about myself. I made additions, I renovated but the sad parts lingered like spoiled spots. I decided when you posted the blog, {intentionally titled, callous and telling of everything you thought of me I already knew} it was time to renest. Everything different that you thought in bad interest, everything similar you couldn’t see for yourself, eventually I knew why I planted so many bitter seeds. I can only pray that you have the decency and strength of character to keep all the ramblings of my weakest year to date, to yourself. That my privacy may remain intact, if it does not than I will be forced to believe that my guardedness and pessimism are warranted, by all means true.