Again with the dated title. Heh. I'm not sure if that's the result of a lack of creativity or a semi-clever way to describe the mood succinctly and find certain significant moments later.
I miss someone. A lot. I have for several months...years. The person who hurt me worst in my life is now the person I would give almost anything to spend an hour with. I had to forgive. Then we found each other. But I wasn't expecting this, to think about this someone every hour. Wonder. Hope. Long.
I probably shouldn't get this emotionally involved. But I don't know how not to be. I'm probably over-complicating this. I don't think I should tell the person. I don't think I can. I'll think of something to say...maybe.
This makes it extremely hard to focus, these intense feelings. Creating is near impossible. The new year's comin' and my stock will probably be cut back. I'd like to have other things to fill in. But it's hard. I have ideas. But I can't focus. I wonder and think, think, think.
Maybe it's a mistake to get personal here, on the interwebs. I'm confused, though. Perplexed. I thought I understood, that I'd figured it out. But I haven't.
Writing used to help when I would keep it all inside. But now the relief is short-lived. All too soon I'm caught up again, smothered with thoughts and feelings that seem too adult, too grown-up for little me. It's not physical. It never was. But it's deep for me, connected to so much of who I am, who I was.
I've never been this way, felt like this. Not for this long. I always appeared sure, though perhaps guarded. I didn't want to get hurt again. I never thought I'd get this undone.
It's scary; I can't believe so much of me wants to trust this person again. We were children, then. Neither of us were really to blame for what happened. There was fear. Propriety. Rules. Boundaries we knew nothing about, being so young.
It's a little lonely; I don't know who to trust with this, but I feel I must share or I'll be swallowed alive. I don't know what The One I Miss remembers about me. There's so much else I want, long, to know. But I'm too afraid to ask.
It's exhilarating, too, and a little freeing. I'm discovering pieces of my personality that I'd shut off for years. I'm remembering things I thought I'd forgotten. I'm dealing with nouns (persons, places and things) that hurt me badly. And it leaves me breathless.
Yet breathe I must. I'm no longer in the darkness I was in for so long. I want to live. I want to understand. I want to talk, laugh, play. I'm trying to go with it. I don't think I'll ever get over it. Maybe I'll get along with it, figure out how to co-exist.
This is long but it needed to be said, told, written. It is the truth, a departure from the posts I normally write. I can only hope...