March 30
journal entries from a day of realization
March 30
It’s Ghost by Bay Ledges and not a lot, just forever by Adrianne Lenker. It’s everything in boxes surrounding you. It’s change itself and the formal end of something. It’s the way you’ve cried in redacted’s bed about the status of your situation, but really, you are not processing that X is moving out. It’s that you need someone to tell you that you are still lovable. It is watching someone you are still not over fall in love with someone else. It’s a nicotine addiction that comes knocking on the door, and too tired to fight it, you let it right back in. It is all so painful, all of it. It’s not about redacted, it’s about X. It always was. Acknowledging that pain will allow you to heal.
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I am waiting for this feeling to shrink, to know that it will not be forever. It always takes me so long to process a breakup. Longer, if I still live with them. When it hits, I am always too far deep into a complex situationship that is hurting me in other ways. I am unfair when I judge X for moving on too quickly, but am I not doing the same? In many ways, I am as guilty but in others, I am only fooling around in comparison. X is in love and in a relationship. I am in hell. Having to live with the person you used to love—and still do—and watch them fall in love with someone else is its own torture. Maybe I deserve this. But their funeral is Wednesday, anyway. I wish I didn’t believe in ghosts because of all the love I’ve lost, but I am too haunted not to.
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It will never feel okay, I will never feel okay again. I am doomed to this terrible feeling forever. But in a way, I am relieved it has finally arrived. God, let me mourn them, us, our forever. Let me mourn the absent future and go on dates that leave a distaste in my mouth. Let me fall apart when anyone asks me how it’s going. Let the tears be so uncontrollable. Let me sleep with strangers I do not want. Let me lose my mind over and over and over again. Let my friends tell me that heartbreak is no longer a viable excuse. Let it ache. Let it ache. Let it ache. Pain is not the only reminder that I am alive, but it is a pretty good reminder that I am human. So let me feel all of the feelings I have been putting off.
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In a year or two, we will run into each other, and it won’t hurt. It will be a concert at the Empty Bottle, and I will see you across the room. You’ll be with friends I have never met, and I’ll approach you with a smile. You’ll reach in for a hug, and I will be a joyful recipient. I’ll remind you that you introduced me to this band, and you’ll laugh and tell me that you remember. There will be a moment, though incredibly fleeting, when we share a look that is apologetic and forgiving all at once. I know I messed up, I’m sorry I couldn’t be what you needed. And we will both know the other feels the same. It will not hurt, but heal our tender hearts. And we will dance to a few songs before I return to my own friends. And all of the anger I was holding onto will no longer belong to me. And I’ll realize it never did.