Sad?

I'm a little sad tonight. I'm not even sure exactly why. I don't have anything to be sad about. I have this great job that has really blossomed over the last year, I live in what used to be my vacation home that I love, I have great friends and family around me, and I no longer have the same stresses over money and whatnot. It has also been my own decision not to date; at least for a while. So why I am I sad? Good question.

I often think about things I can't do anything about. I'm not talking about my ex or any old boyfriends, or any bad things that have happened in my life, I mean about some obscure things that have somehow affected me profoundly without an explanation of why they affected me so much. Things that I should have forgotten by now, but haven't. Have you ever crossed paths with someone whom for whatever reason was only in your life for a brief second, but you can't forget about them? I have a sketchy at best recollection of some major events in my life, so how do I remember every detail of something so seemingly insignificant? This kind of thing perplexes me. Why do some details of your life stand out over others? I still do believe things happen for a reason; not in a way that suggests life is pre-planned, but in a way that if something that should be fleeting or just another day becomes so profound for you that it becomes part of who you are, it MUST have a purpose to it.

There is something I write down every day. A little bit of information I jot down on a small white notepad every. single. day. I keep it with me at all times. I never forget to do it. It is THAT important to me. I've been doing it for awhile now; long enough that I have filled up many notepads. I guess you could say I am obsessive, but it doesn't run my life, it is just a part of my life now. The information I write down is information that comes to me every day. If that information ever stops coming to me, I'm not sure how I will react. Inevitably, it will some day, stop. I know that. I have quit trying to analyze why I do this, I've just accepted it. I look forward to it. There is only one other person in the whole world that would probably be interested in this information besides myself. Actually, they would probably be more interested in why I keep it more than what it is. The information is nothing special. If I died tomorrow, the notepads would be of no use to anyone. Evidence suggests this person has been affected by me as well, in a way that I'm sure makes no sense to them either.

Life is strange. It can be ugly, it can be beautiful, and yes, it can also be very, very strange.