It’s been awhile.
I forget that I need to write and that it helps me.
I seem to remember this on the nights that I need to process something and either there is no one to process it with, or they aren’t available for whatever reason.
That’s when I remember I have the insight within me, I just have to pull it out somehow. So maybe if I just start writing it will come to me.
Just….feelings. We spend so long wanting them. We spend so much energy hiding them. We are afraid of them. We want them. We don’t want them. We don’t know what to do with them. We deny them. We hide them. They show up at the worst times. We mask them with anything that will make us feel better. Humor, drugs, alcohol, working out, working a lot, keeping busy, building walls. Building fucking walls.
I don’t know about soulmates and all that but I do know what it feels like to be completely and unabashedly myself with someone and I like that feeling. It’s a good feeling. It’s just nice. It’s easy. It’s home.
And as good as that feels it makes me sad and a little bit angry. Or honestly it’s something that’s made me angry for the better part of a year now and I don’t know how to process it out of my system. I know what I should feel is gratefulness to know what it’s like to be loved and accepted like that. I know that it should give me hope that I can find that again in the future. But mostly it just makes me sad that I even know what that feels like because it creates this longing that I hate dealing with.
And so here I am. Me, who tries to process things and heal. Me, who has worked hard not to close off, build walls, or shove pain aside. I’m looking on the other side of a year still not knowing how to deal with this complicated shit. I don’t know how to explain what it was. It started out not being able to put it in a box so I don’t know why I expect to put it in a box now.
And so I guess I don’t have answers or insight on this because there’s no box to pull it out of, there’s no box to put it into. (That’s what she said. Sorry. I know it’s not the right mood but I can’t help it).
But seriously, I wish I could define it and put the lid on it and lock it away. Apparently time hasn’t made a difference.
I’ll end with something someone told me recently.
Feel the pain. Let it rise. But let love rise higher.
But what if feeling that love just hurts too?
I’m just so tired of hurting.