Wednesday, January 4, 2017

Writing about it #4

Who the fuck are you kidding? The only reason that you wrote about creating a new blog is because you hoped in you that she will read the first three posts and then she will understand and then she will ask for the rest. Who the fuck are you kidding? Seriously now?

You are not making steps, my friend. You are consumed on the same spiral of thoughts. Get over it. Get over it. Get over it. Get over it. Get the fuck over it.

Tuesday, January 3, 2017

Writing about it #3

Searching through my work emails I found some that J and I exchanged a long time ago. The last one was the image of a little dog. She used to do that when she wanted to express cuteness. I was determined. Took a deep breath. I selected all of them and deleted them. Then emptied my "Deleted" folder on Outlook.

My heart felt something. That familiar bloody pain when your rip things apart from it. Fog on my mind. Feeling upset. Sweat. A slight darkness on my eyes. This is how it goes.

I act as a determined person but I am not. I'm wondering whether I'm doing all these to punish me in some way. Or is it that my logic is coming first? I'm not afraid to hurt myself. The problem is that it hurts a lot.

I considered this blog as a message in a bottle. Always. Only a few people know that it exists and thank god most of them have forgotten about it. Now I need to take a decision to block it from everyone so that she never sees it. And there's where paranoia comes. You know, a small part of me wishes that I could be able to give her these thoughts. It's that part of me that is still in love. The part that I need to kill and then stand above it and wipe away its tears. This is the paradox. The part of me that deletes emails and the other one that secretly hopes to a change of the tide. I don't know how one can raise a blade towards a part of oneself and destroy it.

Ah. Decision. New blog.

Writing about it #2

I'm feeling completely paranoid but it's actually pretty funny, if you look at it from the outside.

Writing about it

They say that if you go through a break up, you need to talk about it with someone. Since I'm not used to talk to people about my personal thoughts, I decided to write them and the best place is this blog. This is the personal one, the ones that spans across time and contains the deepest parts of my heart. This is where I need to be washed off.

At this point in time, the most difficult think is The thought. The thought of her. The thought of her that consumes every day, minute and second of my life while extending its reach to the past, the present and the future. It's so strong that requires an effort beyond my capabilities to ease it out. I keep catching myself trying to talk to myself out of it. "Don't think about this now". "Let it go". "What's the point?". It's impossible. It's certainly impossible to remove the thought as it is impossible to weaken it out. It's a thought that has been haunting me since the day I met her and in a sense, it's my solid proof that I really loved her and I most certainly still do.

In every day life - at work, at home, when I'm outside - it's just omnipresent in a way that I can't remember from any other time in life. It's taking serious effort to concentrate at work (hell, I'm writing this post from work), it pushes me back to a paralysis at home and it makes me wanna see no one in general in a social way. I tend to believe that I can't fight this and that it's part of the process of separating myself and my thinking from J. Look, I wrote the first letter of her name. This kind of small things - being afraid to write the first letter of her name - are extremely important to me. Pressing the key "j" together with Shift on my keyboard took a typing time interval and effort that make me feel like a paralyzed person. There is no power on earth right now that could force me write her full name.

I don't wonder why I feel this way. I am certain of the importance of my feelings. The question is, for how long am I going to be feeling this and what should I do with this feeling of awkwardness and pain? Well, feel it, I guess. That's all.

Asking these questions is a result of another realization that happened a while ago. Well, it's not a solid realization, although I would like it to be. It's more of an assumption - and maybe that's the whole problem. It's this: me and her are never ever going to be together again. We are never going to meet and talk, being the same persons that we were when we initially met. Eventually, my realization-assumption indicates that the person I met is lost. Forever. The person she met, is also lost forever. What was there, is most probably lost (they were right, writing about it damn helps).

As I said, the thought spans in the future as well. How will it be when I meet her again? What will we say? Will I still love her? When is it going to be? How will I be? How will she be? What will we say? What will we say? What will we do? It's a feeling that is peaceful and tormenting on the same time. Peaceful because it leaves open that little crack of possibilities of me and her smiling to each other, touching each other, being together with each other again. Tormenting because it steels away my sleep. It's been a few days that sleeping without alcohol is impossible. No remedy for that, I have accepted it. I will go sleepless for a while. Till I won't be any more.

But thoughts silently span in the "possible future" as well. How would we be if this and that and the other thing were solved? Right? Imagine the possibilities. The light. Oh damn. The light. It's even painful writing about it. The light around her, in her eyes. I'm restating it: this is the most difficult part of this and it has been the most difficult part of this relationship. But what is it more than a dream that I created, alone? What is it more than the an obsession within which I lived alone? Why is this obsession so strong? Why is the idea of this light so strong? Again, I think that this is the most difficult thing that's why these are all silent thoughts. I'm unable to deal with it but I don't know why. I hope I can find out.

Thoughts go to the past as well. What if this or that had happened? Recollecting all the times that I was wrong (and annoying) and all the times that she was annoying to me. A labyrinth with no end (praise JLB). A labyrinth with rough walls and monsters of emotional destruction.

I don't know where to start from, to forget, to separate, to detach. I have no clue. Things look so complicated, difficult, fucked up, unreal right now. On the other hand, why should there be a start? Maybe this is a process with no actual starting point. Maybe this is how it starts.