A short but emotional post this week:
Written 9/18/24
This week I thought about you too much. I felt you in old songs and remembered who I was and what I felt so long ago. I dreamt about you being a jerk and you almost set a house on fire. I thought about the way you'd hold me. I felt my chest start to cave in and I ached. I felt cursed with remembering.
How is it that today I find an Instagram account recommended to me that is only recommended because your partner follows me, and I don't follow them back? I didn't even know it was them until I typed in the username. Like, fuck that. I lingered on their page longer than I should have. I felt entangled in memories and I struggled with freeing myself.
I did tarot tonight and it told me to feel everything and let it all out. Now I'm typing this with eyes that threaten to spill over with tears. I'm grieving again. I want to shed all of this old aching and straining my heart holds onto. I'm suffocating with all my love you refused to take.
I never hated you, but I really should. I want to be angry.
I loved you, but I don't even use your name anymore. I want to be free.
For the first time in nearly two years, I cried about him. I cried hard, letting my anxious and aching thoughts finally expel themselves from my compressed chest.
My dreamscape is often my therapist. It’s built on issues lingering in the back of my mind, luring me into REM full of intense emotional work…so it’s fair to say I don’t feel rested those nights. That’s a post I plan to write for another day.