(no subject)
I just remembered something else I wanted to post - do you ever have those memories that you purposefully try to forget? I don't have too many like that ... that I know of ... but either way, one that I had buried popped into my head again and is just bothering the hell out of me. It didn't happen too long ago ... well, I guess 7 or 8 years, but still, in the grand scheme of things, I was 18ish then. And I've remembered it once before, probably 4 years ago, and I had roughly the same reaction, except for the fact that I immediately buried it again after getting freaked out.
What is this memory you ask? The time I talked a very close friend out of putting the gun down and continuing to live. Literally ... four hours of "no, no, people care, I care, you're worth it, please don't, it would be awful. You're too important, too good." I think I might have told them I loved them, even; it would have been uncharacteristic of me to have let that slip, but I do care enough to have said it and I did then. I don't remember all the details other than there was a gun, they called to say goodbye, and I sat there, so worried for hours and hours, talking to them until I could convince them to hop in a car and show me they were safe. And there was this sort of agreement to never speak of it, not mention it, not talk about it. And so ... I think I buried it. And I remembered it recently, and I just ... its driving me nuts. I worry, and I want to remind them how much they mean to me, and to not pull that shit again, ever. But there's the agreement to not speak of it. Luckily, good friend, enough so that I still talk to them. But I suddenly feel this protective need to say "please, show me you're alive."
So this is what is going through my head today while I try to tackle an immense amount of work. :-/
What is this memory you ask? The time I talked a very close friend out of putting the gun down and continuing to live. Literally ... four hours of "no, no, people care, I care, you're worth it, please don't, it would be awful. You're too important, too good." I think I might have told them I loved them, even; it would have been uncharacteristic of me to have let that slip, but I do care enough to have said it and I did then. I don't remember all the details other than there was a gun, they called to say goodbye, and I sat there, so worried for hours and hours, talking to them until I could convince them to hop in a car and show me they were safe. And there was this sort of agreement to never speak of it, not mention it, not talk about it. And so ... I think I buried it. And I remembered it recently, and I just ... its driving me nuts. I worry, and I want to remind them how much they mean to me, and to not pull that shit again, ever. But there's the agreement to not speak of it. Luckily, good friend, enough so that I still talk to them. But I suddenly feel this protective need to say "please, show me you're alive."
So this is what is going through my head today while I try to tackle an immense amount of work. :-/