My ex messaged me and then disappeared again. She left a message for me saying, “just knowing that u and i exist at this very moment is enough for me.” -a hundred years of solitude
which is a really sadistic way of Nonchalantly making into art, something that was incredibly painful for me.
It’s kind of fucked up like.
She’d message me again and then abandon me again, shes done this several times so it’s not surprising anymore but- um. Not for one second have i gotten any closure or even, a recognition of the pain I’ve gone through regarding this relationship. Not once have we gotten to talk about what she put me through. I can’t even ask why. Why she does this to me. Why she left. Where the fuck she went. What the fuck she’s been doing like.
It’s like, talking to a fucking ghost. I don’t even really know if she’s the person she claimed to be and, even if she was, she’s likely not that person anymore it’s been so long.
The whole thing can be summized in one word. Tragic.
I really don’t know why things happen this way to me. I’ve been realizing, every single day, something bad happens to me? And I think to myself, “why can’t i just get a break?”
I’ve noticed also that like, every single thing i try to do, it’s, dysfunctional. Like, in my home. So like... idk.
Nothing is “right”
not a single thing.
None of it has been for a very long time its like, ever since she’s been gone, it’s felt like I’m trying to do everything with my nondominant hand. Literally, all of life feels that way though, even my thought processes like.
Nothing feels right the way it should of been. And... it’s taken me many years, to get over that feeling and to get used to, the dysfunction its left me with. Lol
and I’ve had to sort of overcome that in like, a silent battle that no one even knows I’m fighting right.
It’s completely internal.
I don’t even know why she’s had such an impact on me in such a way i mean. I don’t even really know who she is. But she sure knew how to wrap me around her finger. Whenever i encounter her, i feel like someone should slap me in the face because it just doesn’t even feel real.
She’s too perfect. Like, it, just. Can’t be real. But it is. She’s real. And it never stops feeling so, out of this world to me. I have to constantly pinch myself. And ask her, even when we were together. “Are you real?” Is this real?”
That’s how unbelievable it felt.
But, it’s uh. I’ve had to sort of come down to this, reality. Right. As a means to cope with that loss of something really, special and meaningful. I have to remain in this sort of, Luke-warm, unfeeling, numbness. Where, nothing is allowed to be, romanticized. Like that anymore. Nothing can be fantastical, or overwhelming. I don’t let myself, get swept away. I don’t cut loose, and dream- or create. I’ve become so incredibly, incredibly stale and so incredibly boring. Plain faced, expressionless.
And though i was, depressed before. No i take anti-depressants so. I’m not even that really anymore.
I used to feel, inner turmoil. Restlessness. I used to feel reckless abandon. And i wondered. I questioned things. I, was interested. In discovery, in new-ness. In, exploration.
I used to get angry, i could be bothered. I could get agitated and, lash out and, i really, felt that.
But now ya know.
I feel such a blanket of just... a wash over me to unsaturate all the color and noise inside me. And I’ve turned, white washed, bleached, over exposed, left to air dry, to a crisp.
And then I burned. And then, there was nothing left to burn. There was just, black crumbs and. Those will be dust too one day.
And that’s how i feel. Like I’ve turned to stone.
I’ve been asking myself, how do i feel. If i were to talk to a therapist i know they’d ask and, i try to prepare an answer in anticipation for my appointment. And, while i tried to find that answer inside me- it’s too easy to say, “i feel nothing.” And i wondered, do i feel nothing?
Is that really true.
But if you look at the context, you know. This isn’t, nothing.
It’s just, perhaps the volumes been turned up so loud, that it’s past deafening. The flames so hot, that it feels cold.
And i am a tire that has been, run ragged. To the steel metal frame beneath, the leaves sparks on the concrete.
A skeleton of what i used to be. I thought, many years ago things couldn’t possibly get worse but, there’s alway lower levels, that you can sink to, i keep finding out. And it just gets darker, and darker, and you care, less and less.
And it’s beyond a lack of care you could imagine, its a detachment from reality that you can no longer control its, beyond suicide its, beyond nothingness, it’s the darkest, depths.
And you’re just so, used to being this way. For so long. Over a decade now. And the time flies by and you, can’t remember, anything anymore. It’s like, the tapes in your head have stopped recording anything like, you can’t even, check in.
Even though you want to be- normal again. You’re so, out of touch that. Your brain just, doesn’t retain what happened because, you weren’t even really there.
You weren’t mentally there, that day or, any of the days that you try to remember. And, holidays and, friendships, people you’ve met, places you’ve gone, it all just slips through your finger tips and deteroiates without a trace. You can’t even, tell someone about it because, you don’t even know it’s missing.
All you have to go off of is photographs and, logs sometimes. Or, here say.
And just, nothing really matters anymore i mean- it had been that way, a long time ago- and i was just, playing a long, is how it felt. And then you do that for so long it becomes auto-pilot.
And literally nothing, matters. Nothing. But you try really hard to let it matter, and all the things you can do to, “get help” with, recovering yourself from the lifeless shadow you became.
The people around me say, “it’s obvious she needs help, it’s obvious. Why aren’t they helping her? It’s obvious she needs, really good care.”
And, none seem to have the courage to confront me about it like, we don’t really talk about it. I don’t know how drastic the changes look, to them. The contrast of who they knew me as and, what’s happened to me.
Those who know me now just say i seem, spaced out, unaware of things going on around me or, detached, mentally, emotionally. They can’t get me, to open up. Etc.
I’ve even been fired for how out of touch i appear, apparently. But I’m completely unaware of how this looks. I don’t know what it is, or why I’m this way, or what other people are seeing.
I don’t know what’s wrong. I don’t know, why, i can’t remember things well.
I don’t know, what happened. I just don’t.
I don’t know what happened to me. I don’t know what went wrong, or where, or when.
I just have like, pieces of things I’ve tried to put together. But it feels like, going about life- like i am an incomplete person. And i can see it in my sister too. The incompleteness.
We adhere well to direction and being told what to do, but apart from that, there is nothing else to us. Robots.
Somehow thats what we were turned into. I never had, an opinion. Growing up. I barely even formed really, who i was.
And life has always been in a state of triage, so when it stopped being that way, its like, it all just froze. In time.
And the years have gone by, since that point but its like... i don’t remember them, it’s like, it’s still, 2015. For me.
But it’s been five, years. And I’ve been in limbo. Dying slowly like a forgotten toy in some kids attic with the battery left on.
I dont know what happened or why i am this way but, i can’t like, snap out of it and get to normalcy. I try to. But its like, grasping for straws and I’m so- bad at it. Feels like, i am a paper doll made with pop sickle sticks for legs and arms, trying to walk around.
but at the same time like, you compare yourself to people, even though they’re nothing like you and. You wanna be like them even though, you know deep down you never will be. And you judge yourself, you blame yourself for, not being good enough somehow.
