This week I bring yet another piece of writing. This time, however, I’m only going to share one selection, because I didn’t really know what to put with it or even how to feel about it. In an effort to warn you of the chaos and confusion ahead, this is less of a thought out piece and more just a random collection of thoughts written down one night in a little bit of a brain dump. As with all other writings and posts feel free to reach out and talk to me or someone else if these words trigger similar thoughts or feelings or experiences. Additionally, these are also not necessarily currently held beliefs, thoughts, or emotions.
History repeats itself, or so the saying goes. Yet for my sake I hope that I never have to truly feel this way again. Yes I can be happy for the good times that were had, but that doesn’t make the pain hurt any less. I’m so sick of people who never really cared pretending to care now. I’m tired of people telling me that they would never do such a thing only for them to eventually do the same thing. It’s bad enough that I have to put up with my own inner demons, I don’t really need others to get in the way.
I don’t think it’s always been this way. Maybe it has and maybe that’s the problem. That when you strip everything away down to the honest core of the situation, that inevitably we find ourselves so broken that we don’t really know what to do. It is in this broken form that we actually are the only genuine copies of who we are. When we aren’t hidden behind others, or aren’t hidden behind the walls and mechanisms we put in the way. We’re simply who we are for better or worse, in every aspect just there.
As much as I hate it, I know that I’d still do things the same. If I changed there is a chance that it might have changed things for the better, but it’s just as likely I would have never been here at all. Reducing things to it’s simplest of forms I know that it’s better to have lost then to never have had.
Still it’s hard to know if I really was everything that I needed to be, then was it simply that the timing was wrong. Will history eventually fix that too? Or was it honestly not on me and actually on you? Is it that neither of us at that time were honest and perfect within our own imperfections? It’s weird how flaws in one sense are the exact same unique characteristics loved in another.
Why am I cursed to this mess? Why is it that every time I think it’s finally going to work out is the exact moment something slips out of my hand?
I know eventually I’ll learn from this. I just hope that it’s not the wrong lesson. I’m afraid that like always I’ll hesitate and hold back. That I’ll be afraid to be open like I can be, but only with you. I’m fearful that this changes everything. It’s no longer that someone didn’t know. Someone did know and it still happened. It’s so much easier when it’s just me. It’s also so much harder. Yet here I am carrying this all by myself surrounded by people too busy to care. Here I am unwilling or unable to move on because it simply hurts too much. Here I am knowing that chances are when I wake up tomorrow it’s still going to hurt, as will the next day and the next day. Unknowing I’m not sure if the pain will ever go away. I say it will. I hope it will, but I just don’t know. It’s in these darkest of moments that maybe you were right.
Uncertain why, but all I can see is a rose. Yet I see it falling. And a new hand picking it up. No clue what it means. Maybe hope? Maybe love? Maybe unrelated?
When I look back I don’t want this to be the end. I don’t want this to be where the history book stops. I want this to be the beginning of a new chapter. I just don’t know yet what it’s going to be about. I’m excited for the story to unfold, but I’m worried that this is the dark and gloomy night and that morning is still a long way off. I’m scared that in this story I’m not the knight in shining armor. But mostly I worry that this is just the beginning of a repeat.