I’ve just sat here for 5 minutes wondering what to write. It’s funny how I had so much stuff in my head during the drive home. Now it’s like, what should I write? What shouldn’t I write? I know a lot of people read this. Which I find kind of strange, though somewhat flattering, but ultimately weird.
My emotions are just so back and forth, up and down lately. It’s been almost 4 weeks now. 4 weeks, It’s a little hard to believe. One day, one moment, I’d be fine. I’d be able to talk to her and muster the emotional capacity to speak to her civilly as friends. Other days, most days really, I just find myself holding back from wanting to talk about how I feel. How I miss her company and friendship. I tell myself it doesn’t matter anyway. That all there is to talk about with her is about how she’s gone to some party the night before, got extremely wasted, and is completely hung over to even function or study or anything. And it goes on for days on end. Again, my emotions are mixed. Glad that she’s actually being social. That’s all I ever wanted her to be when she lived with me. To be social and go out and just be happy, with or without me there. But those feelings are dwarfed next to the ones that worry about her getting through school, making grades, and just doing the things she set out to do and promised herself, after all the tragedies of this year.
Lately though, the biggest, most looming feeling that’s come over me is the one that my head is telling me to do. That being to just detach myself from this person, back away, and let go. More than anger. than jealousy, than distrust, than insecurity. More than feelings of being used, feelings of confusion, feelings of abandonment, guilt. And wondering right from wrong, her fault or my fault, why this could possibly happen and how the hell we’ve come to this point…and the list can go on and on and on. More than any of these things, is that feeling to want to turn around and let go and walk away for a while. For a long time maybe. Maybe forever. I don’t know.
But even so. Even if I did those things and detached myself from ever having even spoken to her…I mean, Christ! I’ve met new people. Gone to a party here or there. Been going to the gym. Got cast in 2 independent film projects. Learning music. Painting. Just trying to keep myself busy and battling to keep myself happy from minute to minute. I’ve been meeting complete strangers, hanging out with their friends, meeting new people, and finding myself in the strangest, most bizarre, and unexpected places. Being the social outgoing Howie that I am and always have been. But there’s this big fucking emptiness at the very core of myself that will not go away. Call it whatever the hell you want.
Some things about yourself. Who you are. What you are. You don’t lose. They’re just suddenly taken away. By death. By love. By God. And after the tears, you’re left wondering how to put the pieces that are left back together.
Or to just turn around and walk away.