I carry little notebooks with me to jot random thoughts.  Here's one from 9/8/9:

There are some days when I am quite sure I couldn't handle the pain of some of life's little incidents.  I think of people who must watch a best friend and lover meet and fall in love themselves.  While the practical side of me thinks that of course, I'll cross that sad bridge when I come to it, the softer underbelly side of me, the side I hide and protect at all costs still hurts at the lingering memory of the last pain it went through.  The old twinge of a torn ligament.  Recalling the exact moment it happened--pop, pop, pop--the pain minus the actual pain, you know?  Snap, twist, scream...the memory is enough.