Don't read this. Seriously, don't.
I feel a familiar stinging in the corner of my eyes and the familiarity sinks my heart. It's been a while since I felt this way, and I wish at least that it didn't still feel normal, that it didn't seem like returning to old patterns, like finally admitting to myself that maybe this is just the way it is. I'm howling again, inside. It's a maelstrom and I know from experience that all you can do is fix your eyes on a point in the distance and try not to let your mind wander. Try not to think at all. It uses your thoughts against you, rips them away and twists them and hurls them back at you. The key is to be blank, to blink in rhythmic patterns, to press your lips tightly together and clench your teeth, to dig your nails into your palms. You'll feel the urge to hide yourself away, to be perfectly still, to stop moving forward, to stop breathing. Just put your hands at ten and two and stay in the slow lane. You won't get anywhere, but you can't stop. Just don't stop.
I was asked what role you play in my life. Someone actually asked me that. I wanted to ask them in reply, "Why is that my responsibility?" but instead I just said nothing. It was awkward and spoke volumes, but I just couldn't lie about such a thing and I damn sure couldn't tell the truth. I kept thinking of those words. "And these shall go away." I hate those words.
I'm sorry about this.
Later. Love.
