Waiting for sleep to snatch me… I’m so tired I doubt any of this makes sense. Oh well.

I wish I could sleep. I really do need some sort of sleeping aid. I don’t know how many more nights I can take just laying in the darkness staring at nothing but blackness. I hate BLACK. I think I am gonna pop a few melatonin and call it good. I hopefully will be able to put on some music and distract myself to sleep.

I miss you. I’m sorry.

 

 

 

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One doesn’t forget about ones Moon. Ever.


Guilty. Guilt. Tons of it. Everywhere I turn, everywhere I look. I can’t escape it. And I fucking hate it. I don’t like to feel guilty. I don’t do things that make me feel guilt. Guilt is an emotion that I avoid but for some reason I am smothered in it.

I have to focus on my situation here. I have to focus on making here livable again. I got so lost in US; the blackness crept in and almost stole everything from me. I need my attention to be here. You are distracting. You are what I dream about. US is the love you read about in those sappy fucking romance novels. But US can’t be. Not now.

I’m sorry.

I’m still going to write you. I know that walking away right now is going to be one of the hardest things I have done. But I have to. I will try to write whenever I have the urge to talk to you. I am hoping I will find comfort in writing to you because you have always cared so much about what I have to say. Everything. Even the stupid, dumb, whiney, bullshit that I usually give you. You would sit there, listen, and love.

Thank you. Thank you for being strong for me. Thank you for not making this any harder than it already is. Thank you for understanding. Thank you for loving. Thank you for being you. Thank you for showing me what love should feel like. Thank you for showing me that I could feel a love like US, a love so fierce, passionate, intense, and powerful that the memories are burned into my soul forever.

I will miss you.

I already do. I miss you the second we part. I always do.

I won’t say good bye. Now or ever.

Until we meet again my Moon. I love you.

 

Why does Silence have to scream so loud? I miss you.

Another day. I made it through most of it so far. Now we have the silence of night to get through and that pretty much fucking sucks. I hate the night. Sad, because I have always found comfort in the dark, star filled, moon bright, silent, nights. I used to love to lay in the darkness and find comfort in the silence. Now I avoid silence like the plague. I always have the lights on, or the TV or both, the laptop is ALWAYS open, usually with music playing, even if the TV is on because it is almost always muted I just need the added light (:  energy waster right here. Have I told you how many times I dry the clothes in my dryer? I might have a problem. I have this thing now where I have to have the dryer going when I fall asleep at night so the clothes usually get about 3 or 4 cycles before I fall asleep, sorry ‘bout that but this is my reality now. I have to have some sort of something going on to distract me because if I don’t then it is too hard to keep the darkness at bay. With all of the music and noise and Target commercial on Pandora I am pretty distracted. Blackness is a slippery slope. I think it almost won. It still might. But I will continue to fight it as long as I have to.

I miss you. I want to talk to you so bad right now. I had to stop myself from walking straight to the phone to call you when I walked in tonight. I literally had to talk myself out of it in my head. No, you can’t hold the phone and make the bed, just get all your shit done and ready for bed and then call. No, don’t call yet he might still be working and you don’t really want to bug him at work do you? No, don’t text him because he hasn’t sent anything since 3 so he must be really busy just wait a bit longer. Is this fucking for real? Yes, sadly it is. This is actual fucking dialogue that plays in my head.

But I waited. I didn’t call. I didn’t text. I distracted, distracted, distracted until finally you sent a text saying you were hanging out. And you want to know something sad I was crushed and relieved at the same time. It is getting so hard to not get lost in you, your words, your whispers, your love but if you are ‘out’ then there is no way I can get lost in it and that crushes me because getting lost in US is amazing…

Well, I guess I am off to find something else to distract me with because the longer I sit here the more I want to message you. I want to tell you that I miss you so much that it takes my breath away sometimes. I want to ask you to go home so that I can lay with you. I want to cry. Probably will.

I’m sorry. I miss you. I love you.

A silence broken. Maybe you like my silence better. I do.

I’m back from the dead. I think. I am pretty sure I know what it feels like to die now. Or at least I now know what it feels like to beg to be done and for someone to end it. I spent days writhing in pain, begging for some one or thing to take the pain and fever away. I have never felt the pain in my joints and muscles like I felt when I was sick. I even thought someone was trying to poison me at one point.  I was ready to be taken to the hospital. Or to die. Whichever could happen fastest? And I was like this for days. I ate 5 saltines in about 3 days. It was bad. And the stress from Hurricane Black didn’t help I am sure.  I had no idea the flu could bring a grown woman to a crying sobbing mess.

Writing doesn’t comfort me the way it used to. I don’t understand why. I want to write so badly. I want to be able to feel that release I would feel after getting everything out but I can’t. And I think it is going to drive me crazy. I know that this HUGE case of block is not helping but I feel like it might be more than that.

Perhaps it is that I don’t know what to say to you. I don’t know how to ‘fake’ it here in my writing. I am a pro at flipping on the fake when needed, as long as I have my props, sunglasses and fake smiles. But when it comes to writing, well, I can’t fake this shit. When I write it is from the now, the real, the raw, and most of the times the oh so fucking ugly. And I feel like I have been so full of ugly for so long that I try to write ‘pretty’. But when I attempt to sort through the mess and pick out the good and the pretty I find myself lost in the blackness and feel like I am swallowed whole and then all the pretty is lost and I feel like I have nothing. So nothing is what I write.

I find that the silence is not even an option any longer. So there is always music on. Loud. Really loud. I avoid sitting. I try to keep my mind and body as busy as possible. Even now I feel like I should be up cleaning but since I have a load in both the washer and dryer and everything already folded and put away I am trying to convince myself that it is okay to sit here and get some shit out. So sit I am. With the music blaring. And the cursor blinking.

So shit is pretty messy here. I have been writing about it. I am just keeping them in a folder for now. Perhaps a blog will be born someday from them. But for now they will stayed buried where all things, dark, scary, shameful, and full of black belong, in a folder hidden on my computer.

I am battling this the only way I can. By the seat of my fucking pants. Fist flying. I still need to battle this beast on my own though.

I need to prove to myself that I can do this. I need to do this to prove that I am not the things I am told I am. And that I am everything I am told I can never be.

I need to find me. I don’t know where to even begin but I know that 5 years is a long time to be wandering lost and I am ready to find the way back to the living.

I am so sorry. I know you beg me to not push. To not give up. And I want you to know that I am not giving up on US. But I need to find ME and fix what happened here while I was so busy lost in US. I am not giving up though. I hope that after I can stand on my own two feet, all by myself with no help, we will find our way back to US. I in no way expect you to ‘wait’ for me. And if you don’t. I understand. But I can’t be distracted right now. And you distract me. US distracts me.

I was so lost in US that I didn’t see how terrible things were here. I was so busy lost in the tingles, the stolen breaths’, and sparkles that I didn’t see my world deteriorating around me.

So now, when you whisper your words and they fall over me like a soft blanket I start to panic. I am so scared that I will get lost in US again and the blackness will take over again and I will be too distracted to see. And we both know how easily I fall into US. Was it not just last night that I startled awake not remembering how I fell into such a peaceful slumber? I can’t allow that to happen. I don’t fall asleep with out tossing and turning and it makes it so much harder to do this alone when I am reminded of what US feels like.

I have been avoiding all things internet related. For days. If I avoid the internet I am not temped to message you. And since my cell phone has been MIA since I survived the flu from fucking hell last week and I haven’t ‘had the time’ to look for it then texting is not an option. Add that I have been avoiding this place like the BLACK fucking plague, because it is so full of black, and it appears that plan No Contact has been fairly successful.

Sorry about that. But I have to battle this dark, blackness filled, depression inducing fucking beast on my own.

I miss you. I love you. I am so sorry. I hope you understand why I have to do this.

Goodnight my Moon. Please don’t hate me.

 

A scary dark pit, and a few things I do know. Or at least I think I do…

I have been sitting here staring at the computer for about 20 minutes now. There are so many different things that want to get out, they are all jammed up like they are stuck in a door jam because so many are trying to escape at the same time they are just piling up on top of each other so really none get out.

Did I lose you on that one? I think I almost lost myself but I can visualize it perfectly. I guess that means that they are supposed to stay there, locked up, where they belong. In that cold, dark, too dark, and scary place.

I struggle sometimes with the idea of writing or not because I wonder if what I am feeling or saying is too bad or dark to put out there so I just bottle it up. I want to say fuck it and just say what I feel like I usually do but something is holding me back. I hope things start changing soon because I am a bit frightened by the feelings I have been having and would really like the ‘comfort’ I feel when I am able to ‘write it out’.

I do know that you love me. I do know that you are Amazing Ridiculous. I do know that you amaze me every morning I wake up to a text, message, or voicemail. I do know that things would be so much worse without you. I do know that as hard as I try I can’t stop the pushing.

I’m so sorry. I wish I knew how to fix me, fix this, fix US. Sadly I don’t even think I am fixable.

Goodnight my Moon. I need you. I miss you. I love you.