The termoil of transition is maddening.  I loathe it.  The end of an era leaves naught but longing for familiarity coupled with the complete denial of such longing.  It's not that one wants to turn back the clock, nor wants things to be again as they were.  If such were the case than the transition would never have been neccessary in the first place.  Rather, it is the lack of familiarty which is so infuriating.
 
To be frank... I don't know how to act and I don't like it.  I feel like I should act one one, or should act another, or should act at third all at the same time... I begin to loose all manner of differenciation between how I want to act, should act, can act and do act.  My action feels like it is the plurality of a thousand pieces of unspoken advice or subtle proddings, none of them my own.
 
I don't want to be harsh or mean or even distant... but I've forgotten how to be close without being too close.  I've forgotten where the barrier was... or what the barrier felt like.  It's been a year since I wanted the barrier there, and now that I want it again I can't find it.
I don't want to shut the door completely, but I'm not sure that I can leave it open without jumping right back through it... and that, too, is something that I must not do.