Guess Who's /Kinda/ Back?
It took me a year, but finally I'm here. I've moved on. Completely. Or, well, as completely as I could. That is, no more impromptu crying while on the train or riding a taxi or the walk home; no more sick feeling in my stomach whenever I'm reminded of things; no more wondering about what ifs, should have's, would have's; no more replaying conversations that have been imprinted in my brain over and over, dissecting every word, their meaning, how they made me feel.
Yep. I just woke up one day this last week, read something that should've upset me but didn't, and realised this: I'm finally free. Mostly. There's still that slight twinge but I suppose that'll never go away. A scar from the things that wounded me.
I think the thing that ultimately helped and pushed me to let the fuck go was actually sitting down and writing about how I felt... which I'd keep private on here because it won't change anything at all, and, well, I'm sure self-destructive emotions and rants aren't fun to read. Doing that sort of scared me (and made me hyperventilate while writing orz), I suppose, because by doing so, by knowing the about the details, the reasons, the causes, I knew the next step would be accepting and then letting go. For the past year, I just let the thoughts aimlessly spinning around in my head to consume me because even though they sometimes made me feel so bad that being... gone would probably have been easier, at least I felt something. I've always thought that feeling something, even pain, was much better than my usual boredom and hollowness of depression. And maybe despite everything that had and had not happened, I was still hoping that things would be fixed and that we could patch things up. Maybe. Still, I'm more a realist than anything, so if something fell apart, then it must have been broken.
Soooo writing? So far, it's been good. There's still a lot of projects on hold but I've started writing again. Before, I couldn't even look at a blank page without being close to breaking down or being thrown into a fit of rage. Now, I just smile sadly when I remember things. Like right now, composing this. I'm sure one day I'll look back and the scar won't hurt anymore but, yeah, one day at a time. It already took me this long. What's another year or two more anyway? ^^;