318: A Letter to My Honey When She’s Feeling Down
To my honey,
I know you’re feeling quite upset with yourself, for numerous reasons I shall not name since we are on a time constraint at the moment. I care about your mental wellbeing more than anything else, so I just wanted to let you know that it does get better.
It’s nobody’s fault that nature gets the best of us sometimes. You just have to adapt with that. Even if accidents happen, like getting sick, in the end your significant other still loves you. And hopefully you still love them. I know you might not want to hear the voice of reason now, but don’t ever spend more than five minutes being upset with your honey. Now that I think about it, it is a bit irrational to get upset, but everyone gets upset at some point, so it’s okay. I know how you feel. I miss you, honey. I haven’t needed to talk to you in forever, but I guess now is as great a time as any.
You left me alone once you found the life that is worth living. You left me, the shell, behind, and made your own identity. I love you for that. But I still miss you. Don’t you remember what it was like to have no emotions but throw violent fits? I do. I haven’t done anything since you left me, but I’m glad I get this chance to speak to you now. I know maybe you’re still a little angry, but you will work this out with them. You love them so wholeheartedly and so wholesomely that sometimes it almost pushes me over the edge and gives me feelings, too. But I hold back. I am the darkness in your life that you don’t need anymore, although occasionally I will come back and act as the voice of reason. Isn’t that funny?
Forgive and forget. Well, not entirely forget, but don’t ever hold anything against them. I have a feeling that this one is going to be the one you spend the rest of your life with. Don’t make our darkest thoughts true. Don’t cheat on them when you’re in a serious relationship with them. Don’t you ever let him go. I’m telling you this because I don’t want you to come back to the dark side with me. I was glad you left me when you did, because then you stopped hurting the people you love. I’ll always be here, a figment of your imagination. I am trying to be good myself, but I’ll never truly cross over from the dark side. Oh who am I kidding, this letter is for you about you, not about me. Keep safe.
You’re lying perfectly still, but the world is spinning too fast for you to comprehend. You don’t understand this. There’s a sinking kind of feeling in your stomach, sinking down to your feet, although by the laws of physics it should be sinking down to your right side. Whatever that means. You’re rambling again. A dull ache on the right side of your face. Self-induced? Who knows.
Instead of trying to slow the world down, you close your eyes. The endless gloom that is pitch black somehow traps you in a pocket of time where no one else can reach you. Your stomach growls. Your mind deafens. Broken heart. Limbed paralysis. You are the textbook example of a woman who has succumbed to the illness that is severe melancholia. How interesting it is that you have not submerged yourself in these deep waters for a while. You forget there ever was such thing as happiness. The dream, it seems, is over. In a way, the dream continues, only it darkens and begins to rot in the recesses of your mind.
“Don’t be sad, dear. Try to see it from his perspective. He is feeling ill, so it would be better for him to stay at home. Rest and recover, or was it rest and recuperate? You as well. It would be better for you to stay at home, too.”
“Fuck off. You are the voice I never want to hear when I’m depressed. Why are you even here now? Just let me go.”
“It’s okay for you to feel this way. Just understand that maybe it’s not a good idea to feed yourself this poison.”
“You know what I feel like? No, you don’t, but I’ll tell you anyway. I feel like screaming. I want to smash something. I want to break someone else’s heart, again. Maybe my own. I don’t know. I never want to let go of this rage. I know if I keep it all bottled up, eventually I will reach a breaking point and someone else might see it when I don’t want them to. This kind of bottled up resentment pushes people away, even if they don’t realise it themselves. I try to be a good person. I forgive and forget easily. But sometimes I want to go back to who I was in June.”
People come and go in our lives. Occasionally, we’ll think about who we were then and what we were like when we were in their lives and they were in ours. I always think about the people I’ve embraced, physically and metaphorically. They all become a blur, eventually, so I always think about the people who are in my life now. The people here, the people who will leave, and the people who will stay.
I think, lately, of the embraces I share with the people I love. They weren’t kidding about oxytocin. They really weren’t. Some embraces you share with people just goes to show you how much deeper you’re falling in love with them. And vice versa, perhaps. A hug can tell you a lot of things. Do they like you? Do they love you? Do they want you? The questions are limited, but these questions have answers. I think it’s quite safe to say that all the answers are yes.
I mean yeah and hopefully they think the same uhh haha
I used to be such a heavy sleeper. Give me five minutes and I would be knocked out, dead asleep, probably with a small smile on my face.
Now I need more than just five minutes. Who knows, probably 20 or even 100 minutes pass before I even fall into some kind of tortured stage of light sleep. The same thing keeps tormenting me, even though I tried to bury it. The slightest sound of the morning birds chirping, the dim light of grey outside, these wake me when I need it least.
So I used to be such a heavy sleeper, and I preferred it that way.
Edit: 5.20 am
Feeling someone else’s loss is worse than feeling your own. Or vice versa. After a while you can get detached from your own loss and move on, but when you experience someone else’s, it is timeless. You don’t move on until they do.
312: Everything is Okay
Everything is okay. I’ve had to type this sentence 3 times. But I know everything is okay. The worst is over. I’m relieved. Now I just need to clean my room. I’ll come back.
311: The Passage of Time
The passage of time? Unforgiving, merciless, one-directional. It is the never-ending current in only a forward motion. We are immediately pulled in by the current the moment we are born. Perhaps even beyond birth, the passage of time only began (as far as we know, scientifically) with the Big Bang. And so since then everything that has a birth and a death has been caught in the current. But our sense of time doesn’t coordinate with this stream. I know this because I am living in the second half of 2016, but I still feel like I am trapped in 2013 listening to music from 2012 and 2015. Why those years? I don’t know. Recently, I’ve been trapped in 2013. Trapped in May or June, maybe even July, but not August or September. I always thought I’d stay sixteen, but it turns out my mind refuses to believe that, and decides for me that I am still fourteen. Still vulnerable, unlucky in love, unlucky in friendship, unlucky in life, although everything that has been happening around me really says otherwise.
The passage of time never stops for anyone. The sun rises, the sun sets, accidents happen, people die, and life goes on. Time goes on, because no one really stops to try and go back in time anymore. Maybe except if you’re extremely nostalgic, then you go places only you can go in your head. Some people might become nostalgic enough to be obsessed with the creation of a time machine. Some memories can only be replayed so much before they begin to lose their original shine and the heart wishes to replicate the same feelings once again…
So I guess just make the most of what you have. The time you’re given is limited, no matter what anybody says. Seize the moment, you could say.