“So long I was so in love with you, so I thought … A year goes by and I can’t talk about it…” – FLYLEAF
I haven’t been feeling very present in my life these days – whether it’s strictly mental or some of it is medical (neurological symptoms), I don’t know. I think a good chunk of it is due to my mental health, so I’ve been forcing myself to journal more often. I used to journal nearly every day. But then I stopped … when he stopped talking to me. I mean, I was a mess before that happened, but I haven’t been myself since. I don’t recognize me. I don’t recognize my soul.
I’ve always been fairly open about my life and my struggles. So, of course, I talked about him. For a while, it was in a really distant way. “Yeah, he’s not talking to me anymore. But it’s whatever.” Sometimes I would cry. There was only one person who saw me truly break – but we stopped talking afterwards, too, so I guess that moment of honesty somehow lost its meaning.
I didn’t realize how painful this has been for me. Not even during two weeks into his silence when I broke down crying at work, or when I let my manic energy take control – calling him non-stop, sending him texts, emails … What did I do wrong? Why did you stop talking to me without an explanation? I hate you. I hate me. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. I need a friend. Why did you do the one thing I told you hurts me the most? Are you such a coward you can’t even tell me goodbye? Or face me? Why? I didn’t even realize two weeks ago, when my new therapist didn’t just nod and make an excuse for his silence. She told me that I need to grieve him – which I’ve known, of course, but hearing someone else say it … Well, I just cried for the rest of the session, and told her I can’t. It hurts too much. I can’t think about it.
I decided to read earlier entries in my journal. I rolled my eyes as I read my goals to not rely on him so much. I read about my attempts to develop spiritually – and how I was improving so much, and I wished I could somehow magically know now what I did then. That’s when I got to this:
July 9th 2017
I’ve been slipping …
July 10th 2017
I’m going to lose him soon, and I can feel it, and the thought weighs down on my heart.
Those were before we stopped talking. My entries with scripture reflections, mental health ramblings, etc. continued until July 30th. My next entry was August 24th 2017:
I am changing
I can feel it
As my soul shapes itself
Into tight knots of barbed-wire
Around what is now
Your absence
I can’t even write about you.
… I don’t know what it was about this, but it really hit me. Sure, I may acknowledge that this super painful for me, and it’s most certainly not helping me cope with the plethora of trials I’m dealing with, but God – those first few weeks I couldn’t even begin to say more than a few sentences about it, and somehow I kept myself together. Somehow I am still together … when I was dealing with something I couldn’t even write about. It wasn’t until September that I could even begin to address the pain I was going through.
The saddest part: He will never know. And if he did, I’m not quite sure he’d even care.
But I care. I realize I need to be a bit more gentle with myself, because I’ve been facing my biggest fears these last few months, and I’m still here.
Serendipity Minds 