I know I should choose my thoughts carefully, because they define oneself. But if I could just allow a little self indulgent angst out... that'd be great.

If I were to be really honest with myself I'd say I never really forgot it.

The somehow self pitying self loaning sickness that starts in your stomach and creeps through your bones till it leaks out your eye creases.
When the heart aches, it comes out in cold sores and pimples and tightness of the upper back muscles. Wanting to sleep all day, and not being able to sleep at night. Food tastes different, and your mind seems clearer, sharper, but obsessed with this inner life that one just wants to get away from- and therefore kept from any real purpose.