At first I thought that being home would make me feel so much better but right now I just continue to feel bored and tired and have this unwillingness to even get out of the house and do anything.  I'm trying to commit myself to going to Philly (well...college roommate's place outside of Philly) but I keep hesitating because that requires that I go somewhere.  Somewhere that is a good trip away. I'm trying to convince myself that the endpoint - hanging out with friends and actually trying to have a good time - is going to be awesome and I'll at least have a good New Years or something.  

Hopefully tomorrow I'll commit to going.  I really should.  Who cares if it is far away?  I drive that distance all the time. 

This morning my mom and I were talking, and she was saying that she saw this sermon on tv and that while she knows I'm not into religion and stuff, that she wishes I would have seen it.  Because it was about letting go of the past and how you can't move on to the future if you're hung up on people and stuff like that.  And I kind of shrugged and said that I knew all that.  After I described what I wish would happen to the ex, my dad pointed out that my rage/hatred is actually a problem, and my mom asked why he still consumes me.  That I'm still hurting and he is off having a great time, not bothering to think about me or anything.  

When she asked that, I just replied that I didn't know.  Because I don't know why, honestly. 

And truthfully, it isn't all the time.  It just sometimes comes up more...frequently in my head when I'm feeling particularly bad or during a certain time of year (holidays whee).  When I thought about it, I compared it to a former addict who relapsed or something.  It seemed to make sense to me that way, perhaps.