It’s taken me a generous distance, as well as a healthy break from the pain, to realize I don’t understand what my mom thought of me. In my earliest years, I believed she loved me, cause none of her demands were unreasonable. After all, children are often helpless and don’t even know what’s best for themselves. Then I grew up, and developed an identity of my own. That meant I had distinctive needs separate from hers, and she would deny every one of them unless they were in line with what she wanted. It was impossible for me to believe there was any love at all when she was the cause of so much of my pain. I’ve since come to realize that relationships are full of nuances, and that it’s possible to love someone wholeheartedly and be terrible for them at the same time.
It’s in these stories, these moments, these connections, these words, these images, these harmonies, these delightful chilly breezes that foretell the coming of winter where I find a part myself lost for so long.
A general sense of numbness filled my life, but I’m starting to feel again, something I’ve been needing for a while now. It was as if I’d lost a sense of purpose, and I couldn’t figure out how to fix that cause I couldn’t tell what was wrong.
Maybe the fact that I started tapering off my dose of Cipralex (a few months ahead of schedule) is adding to the effect. It’s hard to tell with everything all mixed up, and so much happening at once.
I can’t imagine what things will be like in a few weeks, let alone a year. There’s never been so much uncertainty in my life, but that doesn’t scare me anymore. There’s always a way out. Ironic that I had to lose everything to learn that.
I didn’t know I needed a weekend like this to feel again. To dance in those little moments between brushing your teeth and getting into bed. To pass on the right and speed away to a chorus that grows louder with every shadow cast by every street lamp.
I can’t say it’s been due to any one thing. There’s just so much that seems to be happening lately. The days pass faster than ever, and I’m left wondering where life will take me next, cause I’m always surprised by every new friend and unexpected experience.
When I’m drowning in emotion, it feels like I’m perpetually coming out of the water, emptying my stale lungs before taking in as much air as I can again.
This is when every breath is beautiful. A rush of life coming at me.
I know I need to hurt right now. I need to go through this.
I could ignore everything and pretend like nothing’s wrong, but it’ll all catch up to me sooner or later. These emotions are the antigen; to feel the full extent means it’ll be over sooner.
And if I survive, I’ll be stronger for it.
It’s been an emotional time. I’m in anti-social mode, but I force myself to get out when the opportunity comes along.
One day, we hit up a diner around noon. I wore my flip-flops, and cruised west with the wind numbing my skin. My stereo gets louder as I accelerate, and it only made me drive as fast as I could to see how loud I could push Wild Gardens. For a moment, it filled me with serene bliss, and that was enough, among the steel and pavement and summer heat in spring, to give me hope.
It’s that feeling I’ve been craving. To be the only living boy in New York.
Audra tells me I smell nice when I haven’t left the house for days. Gives me the breath-stealing hugs. And the fact that she’s so sensitive about crossing my boundaries makes her the sweetest redhead I know. It’s hard not to believe in myself when she believes in me so well.