It seems that the can of worms that I have considered closed for years now has been pried open by the other owner of all of the memories, emotions, and f-ed up sentiment that I have been trying to stuff back inside of it since it's creation when I was years younger. My conventional method of sealing the lid on said can of worms forever, i.e. ignoring it's squirmy, burrowing, dank, dark presence and going about my daily business, doesn't seem to be binding anymore and the lid on all of this drama has for all intensive purposes popped right back off in my face because he is insistent upon allowing the mealy mouths of each individual worm see the light of day.

Curses.