I’m trying hard not to cry these days because once I start it’s like poison racing through me and I’m a wreck in seconds even if I’ve held it together all day. Of course, I have yet to get through a whole day without the tears rising and what will set them off is still unpredictable.
I’ve mostly accepted the loneliness and the abandonment now. One person left. She may stay. I can’t say for certain because I’ve thought that about others. I thought that about the one who sat with me through a complete breakdown and most of all I thought it about the one who told me as much and his words I will always be here to listen to you still oddly mean so much even though they turned out not to be true. And I wait for both these people to contact but these days it’s so rare and so brief and so staccato that it ceases to provide a high anymore, just an acceptance that this is it. This little two line message is it and the waiting starts again. No chats these days.
I’m dreading the next few months and I fear I’ve made a ridiculous decision. But I also feel whatever decision I made would be equally ridiculous. I’ve bought a new journal. I’ve entitled it “kill or cure” and that’s what the next three months will do. I’ll come back stronger or I won’t come back at all.
So I’ve got my jabs, tickets are booked, I’m buying a backpack and I’m filling it then I’m putting it on my back and I’m flying 9 hours to another ocean and we’ll just have to see.
Make or break. Kill or cure. Live or die.