Create and crumple up

They (and by they I mean all of the girls who drink White Claw and post on Thought Catalog) say that ‘almost relationships’ can be harder to leave behind than an actual one, because of all the missed potential. Well, that doesn’t really apply in this situation, because we were barely even a something, and quite a far cry from an almost.

One article I read told me that as much as one might want to speak to their ‘almost’ one more time, to get closure, to get answers, even if you did get the chance, it probably wouldn’t have done any good. They might not have all the answers, or they would have answers that weren’t good enough. You could go in with every intention of wanting to shut that door and could fall right down the rabbit hole again. And so, you must create your own closure.

I don’t even know the reasons why my real relationship had to go toes up. I’m still reading 3-4 books a day like some idiot as if I’m going to turn a page and find all the answers. I don’t have time or energy to spend on a ‘barely’, but when I want to escape my life, I start focusing on that barely as if it actually meant something. I guess it’s my way of avoiding the real shit that I’m too afraid of. All of my courage went into moving into this place, and I don’t know how to grow any more.

First day back at work tomorrow. People say they miss me and the thought is kind but I don’t really harbor any delusions about what I’m walking back into. Still, it’ll be nice to make some more hours.

Spent the weekend helping Autum move into her place. It’s cute and I’m glad she’s getting out of that shitty situation. We had a little party over there Friday night, and on Saturday we went and got her a couch and spent way too much money at Sam’s Club. Tubing next weekend.

I think all of this shit bubbling up is a product of hormones and not anything truly based in reality. I forgot about him once and got on with my life and I was fine and I’ll fucking do it again, and back then I was much more destroyed. If this past year and a half didn’t total me, that shit sure won’t. I don’t care how many fuck you letters I have to write, this will be bled out. Each one makes me feel stronger. I just have to carefully separate those outdated emotions from the things I’m really worried about and stop using that shit as a bone to worry my teeth over.