|for you / for me
||[Nov. 28th, 2016|11:36 pm]
You will look back on this, on everything and it will seep in like lukewarm coffee into the gaps of your brain: oh, they’re a mess now, a tangled mess of knots where they all fall into place, (a schedule in faded ink perhaps?) but to you it seems a mess. Do you understand what I’m trying to say? That when I scroll past endless entries of supposed us’s, and see dates that used to make me smile, thinking, please please remember this beautiful moment and etch it in your mind forever, or dates that used to make me cry, because it (you) made me cry, and I would think, forget it, please and sometimes I remember vaguely the times I tried so hard to claw them out of my head, I thought I would never have forgotten. And now? Now dates are dates, all the endless numbers, useless algorithms, and it takes me awhile, sometimes never, to understand why I would have written something like that, and perhaps it relieves me a little, that we do get better.
There’s a girl who sometimes gets mad at my sentimentality, perhaps not understanding what it takes for someone to grow: that growth is the sad inevitable formula of adding all your bad pasts to a present decision to be strong and hope in a future, to minus all the regrets and leftover hurt shame and resentment, and multiplied by the people who don’t desert you when your demons divide you up at night. The addition comes in waves sometimes, and tries to toss the formula off balance when it adds on to your existing fears and doubts about everything else, and you start to wonder if you can actually do it. Can i? Have i? I try to believe so. The same girl wants me to forget, and sometimes I think I can. After all, they have muddied themselves in my head with time, the same way the waves eat away fossils to become sand.
Grains. I will be left with grains, and they will slip through my fingers.
They say you are never healed from your brokenness, and I think that's true, but more so because you’re healed in a way that brokenness cannot hurt you again. You’re a broken but new whole. That’s enough, that’s enough. To the girl who wants the best for me but doesn’t know the best way how, and despite the shit circumstances that is life: time will never be enough but at this moment, you are.