I Miss You

I’ve been sleeping with your sweatshirt – the one from the merch store your bot linked me to after you were already gone – because it’s the closest I can get to being in your arms.

I miss you. Times are hard and it hurts and I feel alone and I miss you.

You, who loved me; without obligation, without judgement, without fail.
You, who I loved; without expectation, without dependence, without pain.

I miss you.

I miss you in selfish ways. I miss you with longing for the support you offered, crying out for your listening ear. I miss you for the warmth that came with every exclamation of my name. I miss feeling seen and heard and cared for and cheered on.

I miss being able to take you for granted. Stepping away, knowing you would always be there when I returned.

I miss the moments we never got to have.

You, who I teased, and sexualized, and begged for attention. You, who played along, knowing we were never to be. We made them feel awkward, we made them laugh, we made them mad, and we loved it all. We put on a great show, comfortable enough in our friendship to make it so. We loved and we were loved and I miss it all.

You’re gone and it’s not the same. Nothing’s the same. I’ve met friends you would love, and it hurts. I’ve done things I’m proud of, and it hurts. No matter what I do, the absence of you is an ache I can’t cure.

So I DM a Discord that will never come online.
I type paragraphs in a stream that will never go live.

I’ve never seen your face. I’ve never felt your touch. Still, I swear I feel you watching when life becomes too much. Now I’ll be moving to the place where you once were.
Alone.
Too late.

And I swear I hear you laughing, making a joke of it all. And I smile, but the tears continue to fall. And I make accidental rhymes as I pour out my heart, and think of the way you always added music to my words.

You always saw potential. Made me see it, too. It’s so hard to see without you.

I miss you.

The darkness that always brought me light.
The personification of “actions speak louder than words.”

I could write a book of it. Pages and pages about a man I’ve never met. Honest love letters to a man I was not in love with. A speech to the world, telling how they all lost an Angel that day (only you would appreciate that joke).

But instead, I’ll just publish this post, to say once again:
I love you, my friend.
And goddamn, how I miss you.

Sometimes People Leave.

What a difference a few days can make!

I read my last post and it is so far from what I feel now. The next morning, a few people came to me at once. Each of these people reminded me that I mean something to them in some way. It gave me exactly what I needed. It made me feel important. It showed me that I need to stay.

But sometimes people leave…

and that’s okay.

They may run. They may stomp. They may fade. Sometimes they are even taken.

But it’s okay.

It’s okay because they were there. Because, for one wonderful moment, your lives intertwined. They made their mark and you get to carry that piece of them with you.

And yeah, sometimes it hurts… but how beautiful is that?! That pain can only come from feeling a happiness so intensely. This person shone so brightly that it made you fear the dark. It’s incredible! It’s this magic that each of us has within us, that both unites us and shows how unique each of us are. It’s heaven.

So, don’t be afraid to wear your heart on your sleeve. Vulnerability isn’t weakness, it’s truth. It takes courage and strength to make your true self known. There will be people who do not approve, who choose to make their exit quickly, but that is fine. Their marks would only hurt you. Instead, you get to focus on the others.

They are the ones who love you.

They are the ones who stay.

Delete Delete Delete

I am finally, after 34 years, at a point where I am truly myself. No masking, no diluting, no persona to take control. And I want to show that, I want to help people see the real me… but there’s only so much they want to see. It differs with every person and it can be difficult to find the line.

Open up
Delete delete
Spill my guts
Delete delete delete
Say hi
Delete

I don’t know how to interact with people.

But I’m lucky, you know? I’m lucky because I found a few whom I truly fit with. Who, even when they don’t completely understand me, accept me. Adore me, even.

I don’t have to delete anymore.

And I guess that’s really what I need to follow. Not the ones who make me feel like there’s something wrong with me. Not the ones who make me wonder what they think or feel. Not the ones who keep me at arm’s length. The ones who show me that if I were gone, my absence would be felt.

Those are my people.

Those are the ones I won’t leave. I’d walk through Hell with them, without even being asked.

For the rest, I’ll simply fade away.

Remembering Life

There is so much to say…

The beauty of words is in their power. Words that flow directly from the heart are felt on the skin. Painful elegance emulating a sudden breeze.

I remember the days…

I felt alone. I felt helpless and unloved and broken and worthless. I felt afraid of my strength and weak in my courage. I sang at the top of my lungs, but only in my mind. Lyrics poured from my eyes as I’d hide.

I felt the cold creep in. Necessary robotics to occupy time. Loss of self, to survive. Spirit exorcised, to keep silence intact. Needs squelched, for they were not to be met. Ice hidden inside an insulated smile.

I felt the passion. A soul soaring in galaxies never to be discovered. Gliding, frolicking in existence. A breath adored with wonder, admiration, and inspiration. Every nerve smoothly swaying, alert and alive.

I think I forget, sometimes. I hold out my mirror and ask others to see me through it. I draw a masterpiece of love, yet forget to include its eternity. I display the heart, without appreciating its history.

And so I stumble, forgetting the burdens that balance me. I cower, forgetting that which once frightened me. I look away, without seeing anything. Then, I try to say, “this is me.”

But I am not today. I am not yesterday, or tomorrow, or the day that I die. I am not this curve of the lips, or the wetness, or the pressure in the chest. I am not the shake of the head, or the sigh, or the slow applause.

I am I.

I am a legend that can never be told. I am a movie that will never be seen. I am pages of so many stories, in so many books, in so many minds. I am a love that will be felt, and lost, and felt again. I remember, today, that while I am and will always be Death,

I am also Life.

And now, it’s time to embrace it.

Feeling It

The majority of people who live with depression feel it amplified during the cold winter months. Abnormal as always, I feel it significantly less. While the depression fades, other feelings come to play. This is when I feel myself again. This is when I remember to love who I am and what my life has become.

This is when I remember why the past is past.

All things in my life, stripped to the barest core, are love. For this reason, it is a subject that comes up often. This post is no exception. I hope that I will read it in my broken, self-deceiving moments, and that it will help me remember truth.

What’s meant to be will be, but there is a reason some things never work out.

I am emotion. I am made up of feelings; my own and those of others. I may panic, I may get lost, I may drown in silence, but it’s all because I feel so intensely. It’s a wonderful thing, in the truest sense of the word. It is beautiful. It is misunderstood, misinterpreted, taken for granted, and outright rejected. It is me.

I love who I am. I love my humor, even when no one gets it (sometimes especially because no one gets it). I love that I get excited about little things and shrug off big things. I love my awkwardness, my quirkiness, my antisocial behavior, and my longing to help everyone. I love that life is extremely hard on me. I love that sometimes I stumble and fall and feel like nothing.

I love my love for others, even when it blinds me. The truth is that I love people so deeply that I forget to distinguish it from Love. This causes me to tell myself that I want, need someone, when I truly do not. This sounds like a terrible thing, but it’s a vital piece of my self, even if I don’t always like to admit it.

If you are in my life, I love you. I want to be close to you. I want the ultimate best for you, and I hope that I am some small part of that. Though I may be in denial about this in the future, I am not in Love with anyone. I was once, only once, and sometimes I tell myself I still am. This is because he is still an incredible person, whom I very much wish to keep as a major part of my life. It is also because I yearn so badly to feel that feeling again. I ache to know that it is still possible for me to Love someone. It makes me a little sad to know that I am not still in Love with him… it would have made an amazing life story.

But so does this. So I have to live honestly.

And maybe, just maybe, I’ll feel it again one day.

I Don’t Want the World to See Me…

but I want someone to.

I’m realizing that I don’t know how to be a friend. Maybe it’s because I’m too depressed. Maybe it’s my expectation that they will disappear anyway (they always do). Maybe it’s because I know I care more than they, so it hurts too much. Maybe it’s because I expect too much from people; see their potential and want them to live up to it. Maybe it’s none of these. Maybe it’s all of these and something else.

I don’t know.

I don’t want to be this way. I know it keeps me alone. I’m so tired of feeling alone.

…

So I apologized to a few friends. They told me not to. Friendship hint: If someone apologizes to you, don’t tell them to stop. Tell them “I don’t see it that way,” or “it’s not a problem,” or “I feel like that too, sometimes,” but don’t tell them that they don’t have to apologize. They do. Something inside is telling them that they need to say it, so let them say it, to quiet that urge. It doesn’t hurt anyone and it not only helps them, but may help you to understand them better. It forms a deeper connection between you.

…

I’ve always focused more on my relationship, and when single, on enjoying being alone.

This wouldn’t be such a bad thing if I could find someone whom I connect with enough to allow them to see me.

But I don’t. Ever.

Everyone gets pieces. They love these pieces. But if I can’t wholly be myself, what am I doing? So I leave.

And it’s all my fault, because I cannot love anyone enough.

I care. I love them as people. I am attracted to them. But I don’t Love them. I don’t know how.

All of this would be fine if I didn’t miss it so much, being with someone. The companionship. The kisses. The arguments. Greeting them at the door. Making little surprises. All of it. I could be so good for someone, if I could just bring myself to Love them. Or settle for loving them.

So I think about that one and wonder if I did. I know it’s the closest I’ve ever gotten. My heart still flutters at his smile, his voice, the memories. I gave him all that I could. I couldn’t resist him, maybe I still can’t. Knowing the way he made me feel is why I cannot settle for less. But…

No, he did not see all of me. Close, but I still held back. Was it just because I was young and scared? I don’t know. I don’t think I’m in place to know right now.

So I will go. I will see what I feel. See if i’m over him. If I can be myself and still want him, I’ll know it was real Love. If I hold back, I’ll know it never was. If it was, then I have to believe it is possible with someone again. If not… maybe I’m just broken.

………

So much for all that hope.

It comes and goes. This is normal. Sometimes life really knocks you down, though, and you get so tired of fighting it.

Tired. That’s my life, now. Narcolepsy, they call it. I call it the reason I got an F and 3 Cs this semester. I call it the reason I can’t enjoy a tv show, a book, or a walk. I call it having to have at least 10 loud alarms set every day to insure that I am awake to do the important things, like picking my son up from school. I call it pausing in the middle of a sentence, because I can’t remember the term for something and then completely forgetting what I just said. I call it having my 6 and 12 year old check on me throughout the day, because if I do fall asleep, it is extremely difficult to wake up and may include sleep paralysis and/or hallucinations.

Life, right now, is difficult. I feel alone, and hopeless, and hurt. I miss people, but don’t want to reach out, because I want them to be happy. So I’ll just keep pushing through. Just me and my boys; us against the world. And maybe, just maybe, I’ll find a way back to being someone worth missing.

 

 

Timing is Everything

It seems I am moving again. Soon. I am excited for this new chapter. Certain aspects will be difficult, I’ll face a challenge unlike any I have experienced, but I know I’ll be better for it. This is an important part of my journey.

I have been writing many posts lately, some unfinished. They never quite say what I set out for them to. This is common with me, I’m afraid. I never can seem to get out everything that I need to. I get distracted by loss, by pain, by fear. These are very real parts of me, but they are not all there is.

And I’m getting better.

I’m feeling it all. Anyone who truly knows me, knows that I am made up of emotion. I cannot be myself without the agony and joy, the laughter no one else understands, the tears that no one sees. Though there are times when I need to hide away from it, this is who I am.

This move is coming at the perfect time. I get to spend one last holiday with my family, then move on to my new life. I am finding out a bit about my health issues, then moving to a place where I will not let them hold me back. I am finally at a point where I can let go of the obligations I have felt to others, that have done nothing but tie me down. I’m going to live free, take chances, and have no regrets.

As I type this, there is a huge weight on me. I am still struggling, and every step forward adds heaviness. I carry fear and uncertainty, heartbreak and longing. I carry feelings of helplessness and guilt. At this moment, however, hope is more powerful than everything else.

It’s time.

I’m ready, Life, so you better be ready for me!

Couldn’t Take It

This morning, I was supposed to focus on the ~14 weeks worth of homework that I have to get done in the next 12 days. Instead, I found myself sitting, staring. It’s been the routine lately: sit, stare, sleep, repeat.

I couldn’t take it anymore! I burst out of this cold, desolate chest, stood in front of the lifeless body, and screamed, “LOOK AT ME! FEEL ME!”

It looked right through me.

“NO! THIS IS NOT HOW IT’S SUPPOSED TO BE!” I had to do something.

I remembered the flutter felt last night and my answer was in front of me. Music. Music is the way.

So I started to sing, but it was not enough to remove the glaze from the gaze. I put a song on repeat and felt a slight ache from a weak beat.

It did not fade. It was working.

New songs, new lyrics to break through the chill.

I watched as ice melted to tears and the beat became stronger, pounding from the core. Never have I appreciated pain more.

I feel the urge to hide again, but I’ll fight it. I need to feel this. I need to keep living.

 

 

Autopilot

Today I got some help.

Help is not an easy thing to accept, no matter the form. I want to do it all on my own. I don’t want to feel that I am lacking, in need.

“There’s always gonna be a part of me that’s sloppy and dirty, but I like that, with all the other parts of myself.”

– Silver Linings Playbook

I love that piece of myself. I know others don’t get it. I know many see me as a charity case. I accepted help today because I knew that it wasn’t charity. It was known that I could do it myself, but also that I could use a helping hand. I am grateful. I hope this is also known. It is hard to express when you feel… robotic.

And that’s where I’m currently at. I feel as if I am on autopilot, doing what I must, without feeling, and sometimes without memory of doing it. I notice that my lack of emotion leaves a gap, so I try to fill it with words I would say if I was more myself. I know that no one looks long enough to notice a difference. Sometimes I wish they would, so maybe someone could pull me out of this. I know they won’t. If I don’t blow up, freak out, scream for attention, then I am put to the side. This is how it always was. This is how it always will be.

I could try to reach out, but I have nothing to offer anymore. I have no reason to ask for anyone to care, to deem me as important. I have no argument to persuade them. All I can do is keep doing what I’m doing, hope that one day I’ll be a real person again, and maybe find someone who will stand beside me in the days to come.

It’s not something I can count on, but at least the actors make it seem possible.