I just really wanted to write.

Not a midterm or an essay

or anything of that nature.

I just wanted to put words down,

on a page, or in this case, a screen.

It's Valentines Day and I am alone.

A long day I spent writing my thoughts about medievalism

of all things.

I am tired. My body is exhausted from the weight I have been caring.

The weight of information I will probably never use again.

I doubted myself today.

Not for the first time this year.

I don't think I can do this.

Go to school. Be in a relationship. or even just be.

I guess this is all nonsense to anyone but me.

But my mind is a complex thing.

I don't have a clue what any of this means.