#012

I fell in love.

It was a foolish thing to do. Especially with the knowledge of my past experience but I have a tendency to repeat mistakes.

It wasn’t a person. No, it was a moment. The moment your eyes barely grazed mine. His voice filled the room, talking of loneliness and the places you find it and feel it most. In this moment I felt it, absolutely, down to my soul, I was never alone with you.

A warmth filled me. A comforting truth glowing like ember. I noticed it immediately, because I have been cold for so long. With icicles that reached out to fill my limbs. Making my hands shake, and my chest hurt. But this moment, I wait so long for moments like this, the ones that almost give me meaning.

I yearned to love you in return. To love myself. Because sometimes I see it in your eyes. Wishing at me, praying for me. Because you’ve seen the darkness, the coldness that can reach my eyes.

You call me wonder. I ask where. I still see the healed, almost invisible scars on my arms. I feel the ghosts of tears that have washed my face countless night. I remember the times that static from violent thoughts overwhelmed my mind and had me willing to do anything to make it stop.

But now, its months later. I’m no better or worse. Caught in, what seems to be, an electrocardiograph of ups and downs.

Still, I stay searching for another moment.

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Moments in Time (a)

Marvelously unexpected​,  that is how she described the news to me.

I was the opposite of pleasantly surprised. I was in a sour mood that day and had no energy to try the least bit to be happy. She didn’t notice. Her excitement grew and bubbled over and out of her mouth. Dripping right onto the table, and splashing dangerous close to my coffee. I took another sip and her eyes were lit as an azure flame. Their sparks and flashing caused me to squint. Her fingers had a tremble to them and they shook the whole room every time a new motion was told. I could feel my patience ticking, I stifled its countdown with an inaudible sigh. My face open and welcoming. I tried to be attentive. Please, I begged to whatever caffeine deity there was, for the quick intake of the drug into my system. I need energy for this. I want to be here. Be present in this moment, appreciate the vulnerability she was sharing with me. But weariness and dark thoughts clung to me.

I felt another presence draw near. A person walked up to the table stern look in their eye. She of course did not notice their intrusion. My eyebrows furrowed, and the darkness started changing hue. The stranger cleared their throat, interrupting her catching her attention. My eyes narrowed.

“Excuse me, do you mind not being so loud and sharing your complete life story to the entire place?” The cross voice and words cut through the air. A huff of irritability escaped the stranger’s mouth. My jaw clenched.

The flame began to dull in my darling’s eye and I knew her nature. There were days she was as sturdy and proud as Mount Everest, nothing could bring her down. Then there were the human days, fragility was present and she felt every breeze. Today, she would take this to heart. Her excitement would be dimmed. Immediately the dam holding back my morning grumpiness broke forth. How dare they speak to her that way!

“Well, excuse me.” I retorted. I let the words be cold and biting. I glared directly into impertinent eyes. “If you didn’t want to bothered by people’s voices or the sound of conversation this lovely day.” Eyes widened from both parties. “It was an unwise decision that you made to visit such a popular place.” A sharp intake of breath from the provoker’s mouth. I gave a cold smile, dropped my glare and continued. “Though if it is too troublesome for you, I know that to-go cups are provided here and it would be very easy for you to, just leave. Now excuse us, my friend here was in the middle of telling me something rather important.”

A small huff and receding foot steps were heard as I gazed into her blue eyes. A smirk played at my lips and she looked at me in awe and amusement. A silence of appreciation to my attack passed between us. Then she began again, just as animated as before.

Good.

#011

Write darling.

About what?

Anything. Everything. About us.

I’m not playing these games with you today.

Then one of your drafts. Work on one of those.

I cannot.

…

They elude me.

They’re literally right there.

No. Their meaning. What I originally intended, I cannot grasp it.

So write something with a new meaning today.

There is no meaning. Not today. Notions with deeper meanings would tire me even more. I just need to relax.

Is that what this is? A relaxing exercise?

This. This is just a precursor.

To what.

My nap.

 

There’s a strange sense of relief.

I say strange because I don’t understand how it came about.

This relief came over me the day after a meltdown. The night before the cracks in my walls were widened, leaving me exposed. I still feel them today, tender, constantly making me flinch. But also, it feels as if a warmth is touching me. Like the sun on your face after being inside all day.

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#010

Time for honesty.

Maybe a little dose of reality too.

For myself. I know, I am prone to wallow in self-denial.

“You’re wallowing again.” (Thanks kid. I mean it. You’re always honest with me.)

That’s why I stopped writing.

Stopped expressing.

I thought I could ignore it. Ignore what I never brought up and out and onto the page. Pretending it didn’t exist, the little turmoils in my head.

I hate feeling like this, spewing metaphor after metaphor for sadness and pain. I say pain like something hurts but I’ve been past that. I’m talking about the pain where all my nerve emotional nerve endings have been fried. So now I can’t feel anything, even in the moments when I so desperately want to.

I am going to get through this though.

That’s a statement.

A fact.

I am going to push through and spew out all this garbage, because I’ve missed this. The sound of my fingers on the keyboard, writing down ideas the moment the pop into my head. I don’t even carry a journal around anymore. All because I don’t want to admit to it. To let it be real. To be real.

So real talk, with feeling.

My feeling, or feelings.

Those that I push so desperately in that box and place at the top of the closet.

I want.

Well, I want a lot of things. But concerning this, I want… Not to be more happy. Happiness is fleeting and lands in moments, briefly or lingering. Never permanent, no. We can of course feel its traces, like the touch of a lover that you still feel on your skin.

I want to be less.

Less sad, less wallowly.

Less empty.

Less of whatever it is, I’m feeling the majority of the time. I don’t need happiness to replace it. I need just more space so I can fill it up with something different. Something productive maybe. Something hopeful, inspiring.

Perhaps, what I am yearning for is…

Meaning.

Love.

I want to write, and it not be pain or sadness.

#009

“I’m fine!” I shouted into the abyss. My deep breathes and silence was all that was left. I shouted again. No response, not even an echo.

I waited. I waited days and nights. The sun would set and darkness engulfed me. In the morning I’d be surrounded by swirls of mist and fog. I waited for an answer.

Doubt began to creep in. I started to think I truly was alone, that my efforts were foolish. I was a fool for believing in the words of old. “The abyss will also gaze into you.”

Discouragement overcame me. I did not leave though, for there was nowhere else for me to go.

One dawn, before the sun had awaken, as I sat near the edge. Mist curling and unfolding around my figure. Looking beyond. Thoughts of defeat filled my mind, just as times before, and with a sigh I whispered to myself, “I’m fine.”

Suddenly, I heard it. The softest of replies. I peered downward, seeking the voice. I heard it again. My heart quickened. Had my patience finally paid off? Truly, was I not alone in the darkness of my soul?

A warm touch came upon my shoulder. So gently I did not notice at first. But this caress was not from the abyss in front of me.

I turned and the warmth fell upon my face. The sun had just begun to peek over the horizon. Bright and burning.

“Are you okay?”

 

#008

It’s 3 weeks til the end of the semester. I just need to hold my shit together for 3 weeks. Then I can go through whatever mental episode I’ve been holding off for weeks.

It’s bad tonight. All that static and white noise in my brain, then the burning rage because I can’t get it to stop.

Every instinct in me is telling me to tear apart this room, break everything I can, and then proceed to punch a hole in the wall.

But it’s midnight.

And all I want is to get past the anger and the bitterness.

Why the fuck am I like this? Why do I keep failing?

Honestly, I hate writing like this. Because it feels like shit and I see no beauty in the words. It’s me admitting how messed up I am. I’m not ignoring the ugly parts. It’s all the jagged pieces poking through and I can see all the damage. And I hate it.  I hate looking at myself and saying I need to get it together, because I’ve been saying that for the last 6 years. I’m tired of dealing with the same depression. The same thoughts, the same questions, the same fears. Fuck. You think some progress would’ve been made.

You think writing it out would help. Getting it out would release some of it. But it doesn’t. I’m just as angry. I still can’t think. My brain hasn’t slowed down.

It’s midnight and I’m burning.

 

 

#007

Sometimes all that’s left is sadness.

It’s night. I look over all that I haven’t accomplished and all my failures. It weighs on me. I am weary.  I should’ve been better, stronger.

Now there is nothing left.

I wish I was past this. There are days and weeks I feel like I’ve made improvement, that I’m moving forward. Then a week like this comes along. Without warning, those dark clouds are back, surrounding me and my thoughts. All hope, all positive thinking seem to be  swept away.

I am very tired, and I cannot sleep because tears burn my eyes.