In between little pauses in my thinking, I find myself remembering her. Little flecks of happy thoughts like snowflakes falling and shattering on the ground. There are so many mistakes we grow to live with, and so many times the lie begins to taste old. Hopelessly mounting a fight against the world is a great way to become sick of it. I’m not going to the edge of sorrow now or anymore about this because the wound is old and healing. Things that are gone won’t be changed. It’s just as life can be; mercurial and surprising. I’ve been thinking a lot about my place in the grand scheme. I don’t really want anything more than a chance to impress those around me. That seems satisfactory for my purposes.
I’m occasionally aware of just how solitary I am. Sitting here in the moments before work, I feel alone and sad. I miss having someone near who I could always relate to. Someone who would in turn comprehend and appreciate me. I think I have a lot of good to offer the general public. I’m funny and smart and outgoing. I get these flashes of sadness, like burps of old memory coming back to pester me. It’s not anyone’s fault, but these times hang on my heart and make me feel distressed, discombobulated and weary.
You know that feeling of security you get when SOMEONE is there waiting for you? It’s one of the best feelings around. I remember coming home and just savoring that moment I got to the door, unlocked it, and flung it open stating that I had, at last, come home. And the excited “hello” that was waiting for me. And a big overdue hug.
I don’t know what I need anymore. Things are happening, but I’m still having trouble letting go all the way. I yearn for something I’ll never get back. If ever there is to be a return to feeling, I would need to build a new life with someone new and the work seems daunting. Especially since every single time I try this it fails and ends in heartbreak. I can’t put my family through another episode like that. I don’t want it for myself either. It’s too much to think about too soon. I know that the days of this feeling being painful are passing. But damnit. Not. Fast. Enough.