I have two impulses.
The first is to drink all the vodka I can get my hands on, see you, and demand answers. The questions include everything ranging from “Why?” to “Whywhywhywhywhywhywhy?”
The second is to flee. I don’t mean hide for a little while. I mean drop out of university and move away (again). That sounds very dramatic written down. The truth is, I have been thinking about this for a while, but this feels like that kick I need. Maybe this is that sign everyone talks about - the ‘sign’ that lets a person know when it’s time to make a change.
Every time I think I see you my breath stops sharply and I clench my teeth. That’s it then. The day is ruined. Nothing can distract me. Drink, friends, good food. It’s ridiculous, I know but I’m sunk.
The truth is, I didn’t expect this, and it’s really upsetting. I always fought so hard to keep you out of my life - to forget about you completely, no matter what cost. I understand that that isn’t supposed to work and that it’s not healthy and I know that I will never completely let go of everything that has happened. But, ok. Remember this?
We were both unsure about what was supposed to happen next and all I knew was that I wanted you out of my sight. You were hungry and took me into town for lunch, talking endlessly about the weather and the trees and my neighborhood. I couldn’t say anything. Or I don’t remember what I said. I just know how happy you were. You were so cheerful.
I remember taking three showers that night. And I remember waking up the next morning still sore. I still remember that feeling - waking up still aching from the day before. And part of me still killing myself for my naivety, for thinking: but he’ll always love me! We’ll always love each other! Our love is EPIC and it would CROSS OCEANS and NOTHING WILL TEAR US APART.
And part of me thinks - stop it. This is ridiculous. Over a year ago and it still hurts so much it’s all consuming. Go out there. Do something. Fucking do ANYTHING as long as you get it done.
And another part of me thinks - is this even a choice? do I even know what free will means anymore?
And most of me just listens to Imogen Heap over and over and over again and wonders where the time goes and how did I grow up so fast.
I have two impulses.