I had an idea with this topic but that’s all gone now, but there’s something else I was thinking about. A lot of things as I write this.
That many writes do, and others read. As we read we can nod and may be related but those who write have to relive everything they been through, the pain they went through and put it all out there.
It’s painful to go through it all over again. Digging into the past looking at the coming day knowing what stupid things I’ve committed to now. I want to go through it all but it’s gonna be hard, it’s gonna be really hard. But maybe it’s a way I can use as some sort of therapy. I haven’t dared touch these subjects.
And I’m sure I’m not the only one who goes through this, something happens and you just let it, trying not to think of it. You think of it and you have to realize it actually happened, you have to go through the hurt of knowing it’s no longer what it used to.
When something hurtful happens I’m too weak to face it and accept reality. And I know what many say is that. “You’ll have to do it.” Yes, I know but it’s way easier said than done. I’m trying to get the courage to face what happened, that things will never be as it used to.
And the nights are the worse, laying quietly in your bed, it’s dark and all I hear is that fan that he gave me the habit to sleep to. The sound of the fan and your own thoughts. Thinking of what to do. Something I want to do so much is to write a letter, take his old shirt and the letter, go to the town he lives in and wander around in hope that I will be able to see him. But then I wonder how would that look, I’d seem like a stalker, clingy thing that’s impossible to get rid of.
All these stuff circling around my mind what I can and cannot do. What I want to do so badly. What I want back but can never have. Things I should have done differently, my regrets and awkward moments. But that’s not all honestly.
There are good things circling my mind as well, the gift I should give to my dad at his birthday, what my brother’s up to. memories, funny ones with my past friends. Message drunk friend write and, it’s not always all bad. It’s good things, too. What keeps me going.