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Just the memories are too much sometimes. Like bad dreams that can crush me for extended periods of time until I find my way to block them out again. Push them back and go back to being ok.
The look of his eyes fluttering to figure things out, while he’s restrained to a hospital bed with machines beeping around him. Drugged into a stupor for his own good, so he doesn’t hurt himself further. The tube down his throat cutting off his communication, but keeping him alive.
And as I was just told not to say anything to upset him in this state, the first thing I say to him is “Everything is going to be ok.”
Of course! Because hearing that wouldn’t make him think of something being wrong.
“Everything is going to be ok.”
All I could think to say. Telling him that I loved him so much. Kissing him on the forehead. Trying so hard not to be panicked. To look panicked. Show no signs of issue over how fragile and broken he looks.
The words echoing in my mind from a few nights before when I am told, “They’re not sure he’s going to make it.”Waking up every hour on the hour because I didn’t want to fall asleep and to wake up to find out he wasn’t in this world anymore.
Days later, after surgeries, he’s starting to improve and can’t remember things. I’m barred from seeing him. Making mix cds of songs I hope would jog his memory and hoping they reach him when I can’t.
Even though his memory is a complete mess and he ignores my presence a majority of the time I’m there for that visit I begged for, he turns to me and asks me why I didn’t bring the cds to him myself. Taking me aback because I think he doesn’t remember me at all.
Most days now, I am truly fine. But sometimes these filter back to me. Among so many other memories. In flashes. In nightmares. In dreams.
I come back to this graveyard of social media to air them because I feel it’s where no one will ever look.
I loved him more than anything in this world. So much so that I was willing to follow him into the worst places just to try to protect him in the best ways I knew how.
I may have made mistakes along the way. No question.
But it’s what you do when you love someone, right?? You just do it.
Why these particular memories stick out for me over anything from high school, any words in the letters, our time while he was home, or all those visits to prisons… I can only guess it’s because these fresher memories also include some of my worst fears I could have ever imagined.
Hospitals. Dying. Losing him.
The beeping machines…. I had gotten so use to them by the time he decided we were done. They ring louder to me sometimes than the sound of slot machines (which I had much time to have etched in my brain as well).
Him finally waking up and remembering me, asking for me, and the first thing he tells me is that I look bigger, when in reality, I hadn’t eating much in weeks out of terrified worry. Soup. I could hold down soup. He called me fat.
So you see, while I know how better off I am without him in my life, because god knows he made me so tired all the time. There is this place inside me that still cracks a little when these haunting memories sneak up on me.
It makes me wonder if I’m truly broken.
Afraid to have to go through all of this with the next guy. When really, most guys, probably won’t send me through hell and back.
And while I wish this other guy, the one I said “Umm.” to, would give me more than a one to two word message back. He might be better off without me. Because what if I was torturing him in almost the same way.
Granted, I didn’t almost die.
But I was careless with his feelings. Telling myself that he couldn’t possibly have feelings for me when in the back of my mind…. I knew. And I said “Umm.” in response. (Among some of things that certainly didn’t amount to an “I feel the same way” response.)
When really he was the first person since that everything just felt right about. Things clicked. He seemed to get me. To know what I was thinking. Even from miles away.

God how I blew that.

If I had another chance, I wouldn’t blow it again. Now that I know how I feel.

But I won’t be getting that.

Here’s to hoping lightning will strike again.


The August

On that August night, when I got the phone call that he was in the hospital. The words “They don’t know if he’s gonna make it…” hitting me like bricks.

I didn’t sleep at all that night. Maybe a combined hour. Because every few minutes I’d wake up in tears, check my phone, look at the clock, squeeze my silly little shark, and cry until I drifted off again.

Minutes later, sometimes seconds, I’d wake up again. And do the entire thing over again.The entire night.

I didn’t want to go to sleep and wake up to news that he wasn’t here anymore. I didn’t want to fall asleep and lose him.

Almost a year later, even with how things turned out for us, I actually feel very lucky. It really all could have been so much worse.

Does time heal?

He’s my ghost.


And I hate it!!

the unknown

I think I realized lately that the most stressful frightening thing in the world is not knowing something. Not understanding why something is. What’s going to happen next. All frightening.

I gave up so much of my life and myself to this one person. Stuck by him through the worst (woh woh worst) and the best. And it was (of course, because i loved him, but also) because i was so sure how we were going to end. this future i saw so clearly because it was all i wanted with him.

of course he screwed that up and that didn’t happen. leaving me in a horrible case of the unknown.

losing everything at once can do that to a person though.

so here i was, in my self exiled cave. driving over hill and dale to escape it. and i know that every near miss since with a guy has been my fault. they have all been my fault.

but now i’m in this place again. and i found something that i want again. a potential future for myself that i will kill for. and i can’t help but think…. why stop there… it’s time to come out.

he was a douche that didn’t deserve me. that much was truly obvious to everyone but myself. but i let it stop me from seeing a possible future with someone else.

now ex b (we’ll call this next one, ex b), he’s my cappie. my soft landing. he’s always been around for me. always wanting to see me. and my feelings for him have never gone away. i get in a room with him and it’s like, “god, i miss him”. but i always think that he’s so over me. he just wants to be friends. blah blah blah.

but it occurs to me…

if his aren’t there anymore, then why would he bug me to hang out with him every few months.

if i meant nothing, why would he care to see me at all.

i never thought of that until now. honestly, i just thought he was messing with me. that the universe was messing with me.

maybe losing everything makes asking the hard questions easier.

and maybe i’ll confront him on that….

la la la

What if I completely blew it when he proclaimed his love for me?

While still a bit intense…

Just because I’m not good at saying how I feel doesn’t mean the feelings aren’t there.

this guy once told me that everything always works out in the end.

that was almost 15 years ago, and those words still resonate with me.

because they’re true! he was right!

good or bad, things always work out the way they are suppose to.

that’s probably why i don’t regret anything. i follow a lot of my whims and my heart, say what i feel needs to be said, and i let the fall out fall on me. and i take it because i know i did it with no regrets and when it’s over, i’m going to come out of it ok. or even better.

the tricky part is always the fall out, whether it’s my own doing or not. you just have to remember that things always work out in the end.

i’ve always believed him on that. and probably always will.

that’s what i’ve lived by my whole life since that day at his locker.

hide and seek

As soon as you start feeling like you have something to lose, that’s when the game changes.

faith in humanity

“if i can keep from curling in a fetal position, you can have just a little faith in humanity.”
it’s funny that i’m his female consultant since my last relationship was an apolocalypse and my female dating reactions certainly haven’t been the same since.

his ghost follows me. and it’s everywhere. and it’s annoying and randomly upsetting. as lame as that is that i’m still not over it, these things are bound to happen when you loved someone.
but his ghost keeps me from being open to other opportunities. i’m trying through. god knows i did give bdj a good hearty try. i just wasn’t int him. and criminal guy, he gets absolutely no shot because i decided to never date anyone who couldn’t pass a background check ever again.

while in my guilded cage, i’m been tending my wounds and working on myself. because the only control i have is over myself.

and, while i don’t know where i’ll actually end up, i’m keeping the faith in karmic snergy and humanity. and that’s what i’m going to keep telling my terribly close friend.

it’s all you can do.

cynical zombies

Sometimes I worry that the big TL only comes around once. The TL being True Love.
And while my bitterness into the idea of love is pretty obvious these days, I can’t completely be cast into the role of cynic just yet. Because I know it exists. I had it. I fought for it. I spent 8 years of my life going above and beyond for it. It was in me and effected me. If I was dying right now, I could say that I had truly loved.
And I think about that. And it’s ridiculious for me to think I won’t get that chance again (hopefully with someone waaaayyyy better and more mature).

I honestly think I could find love again in my next place I go. I’m not too worried.

I just think about the big TL sometimes. And how he probably wasn’t the one.


what i’m looking for in the next one:

well i’d like him to be nice to me. (he better be!)

understand me. get me.
blah blah blah

not try to tell me what to do or run my life.

someone who is actually interested in me and wants to be there with me.

and, of course, there’s my bruce factor. gotta understand that.

someone who’s fun and cool and awesome.

but really, i want someone who i can’t stop kissing.
someone that when i kiss him, the world stops. and makes me not want it to start again.

if i’m not sitting there thinking about what it’d be like to kiss you when i first meet you, well that’s a done deal right there.
and pretty much what i’m going to use as my gauge from now on.