Tortured Souls

I am reeling from the revelation that I am a tortured soul in search of another tortured soul to ease my tortured soul.

I wanted to deny it. I tried. But as I attempted to summon the words to my lips, I knew that denial was futile. My friend saw what I have been blind to see. Except that she thinks it’s funny. I’m still stunned. So instead of telling her that I needed to think about what she said, I told her I needed to blog about it. Or, I guess I could sign up for Twitter (the digital Macarena – thank you, Joel McHale!!) and sum it up faster: tortured soul needs tortured soul for more torture.

Am I doomed to be that tortured soul looking for misery (you know, because misery loves company)? Something makes me think not. That something is the fact that I despise (with a capital hate) drama. I don’t want to have anything to do with it. I occasionally become embroiled in the random dispute, but I want it to end quickly and be resolved in the best manner possible (because clearly I’m right). I’ve even learning to avoid (gasp) gossip. I don’t always win that one, but I’m working on it. I prefer happiness and jollity to anger, stress, and discord.

Perhaps, even though I am a tortured soul, my disdain for drama will stand me in good stead. I mean, it hasn’t so far, but there’s always hope, right?

So take that, tortured soul!! I’m determined to be happy if it kills me!