I have this theory. We're all born with a limited amount of the range of human emotions all stacked in tiny glass bottles shimmering in some corner of the universe. Everytime we feel happiness, it takes a little bit from that bottle labeled happiness; everytime we feel depressed, it takes a little bit from that bottle labeled depression. If we have a happily glorious childhood, we have less happiness to spread out in adulthood. That initial amount in all those bottles are different from person to person, but the principle remains the same.

This has been playing in my mind for awhile, but it crept back into my conscious today.

Someone today decided to describe in detail the life of the ex to me because she saw her recently. She told me everything from the length of her hair to what was going on in her life. It bothered me more than I thought it would. It's not that I don't care about how my ex is doing, it's that I don't want to know. I think there's a huge distinction there.

Karma-wise, she probably has butchered hers the most of everyone I know. And I will be the first to admit that I'm no saint (just read my twitter). The thing that bothers me most is that she's happy knowing that I know she's happy while I'm just existing. Even miles away, she still finds a way to make pointed jabs into my life (not the first time... probably not the last). It's like this weirdly cosmic control she has and I'm on the receiving end of it. To be completely clich