how we heal

i keep having these fucked up dreams where you’re involved

where you’re somehow still in my life, and she still keeps in touch with you and i am silently resentful and i don’t know how to feel but overwhelmed is not one of those sentiments.

i don’t know if i miss you… but i reread what i have written… passages… notes in 140 characters and then i remember things. and then i smile. and i want to cry. and then i realize that i miss those moments, but i’m not sure if i miss you. but maybe that’s because i haven’t let myself do that, i haven’t let myself acknowledge that i wanted you. i just pretend this was a platonic friendship and these strange feelings and thoughts that go through my head are just gibberish when they’re not.

you see, the shortcut opened up again after a two month hiatus. and i can’t help but think it’s some kind of sign, that life goes on or that maybe this isn’t the end.  like the shortcut closed while you left and now it has reopened… like maybe you’ll come back in some weird, fucked-up, fantastical, and improbable way.  is it weird to wish that it wasn’t the end?  is it naive to be wistful?  part of me is embarrassed, even  ashamed. i have not reconciled anything. i cannot understand myself, i cannot face myself.  i would break down with the truth so i barrel on with my life.  it’s sad, actually.

i can’t let go. i graze the rope pretending that i have already let go but i make sure that i could get a firm grip on it at any time.  i don’t know how to do this. i don’t know how to heal. i don’t want to heal. no, i do. fuck. i don’t know. i don’t want this to end. i loved the rush, i loved the roller coaster, i learned to admire you… i think i don’t even fully understand all the nuances of what i felt for you because i feel so guilty for even liking you. because it’s like i shouldn’t. because i’m such a bad, moody person and i was an asshole and there’s a stigma and we’re so different and i’m a horribly flawed person and i put you on such a high pedestal and i… i feel like i don’t deserve you. like i couldn’t deserve you. so i shouldn’t have liked you. i shouldn’t have hoped that something would happen. that i shouldn’t have thought that there was something happening. and even now, i find it taboo to talk about it. that i couldn’t talk about it without putting it to some control test and stating that since there wasn’t clear evidence that something was happening between the two of us, then no, nothing was happening.  but am i crazy?  all the times you shared stuff with me because you thought i would like it?  all those… times… and all those times where it didn’t seem like you liked me?  and all those times you seemed like you hated me… and all those things that were said. alone.

ugh i don’t know how to deal.  i am second guessing myself. but i am grieving in some manner that is way more difficult than i should be grieving. i don’t know how to move on so i’m stuck.

because i deny that if i didn’t deserve to feel something going on between the two of us, then nothing happened. and if nothing happened, i can’t be upset and shouldn’t have difficulty finding closure.

but i do. and it’s because of this mindset that i’m royally fucked. i don’t know how to deal. fuck. fuck. fuck.

will you call me?

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how am i holding up, you ask?

barely.

i’m getting by though.

i refuse to discuss it, i refuse to acknowledge it.  i just let it simmer but we shall see what happens when it gets overwhelming.

if i don’t address it, i can pretend this is not happening, that it is not real, that it is not eating away at me.

 

i’m not over you and in this fast-paced carousel of life, i know the letting go will hurt. but it will be so exhilarating.