The frickin' death of love

Melodramatic, yes, theatrical, yes, guilty on all counts, but I've no other image that effects me so much as covering the face to cut out the world....

a line of love severed and thrown into space--it was this sort of heartdeadening
depression that sent me to 7 days in a psychiatric ward a couple weeks ago (hence the lack of downloading new images). I am home now, but the death of love still brings incredible sadness--one has to learn to cope, but I don't think one can ever recover from such a crisis.

Well, I don't want to venture into detail about my days in the 'nuthouse' (no offence to the use of the term) or how I was sent there involunarily. I'll explain
later at another time. It is strange--besides social episodes of an individuals loss of reputation, wealth or status, you also lose 'friends' when you tell them you've been committed. LOL

But then, I've also discovered that there really is an exsistance called 'friendship'--the ones who still accept you--holey crap--I never did believe that concept until my incident.

Thank you so very much to those that are not freaked out by me


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