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The daily breakup
Aug. 18th, 2021 08:57 pmTonight I'm thinking about the end of my relationship with Michael.
We had written to each other, back and forth. We had spiral-bound notebooks and I'd write in one and give it to him, then he'd write and give it to me. I don't remember how many notebooks it was. Over time he wrote less and less.
When it was over I wrote so much. What I wrote then feels so resonant now, eleven years later, that I don't have anything left to add to it. I'm hurt tonight but my past self wrote this to me more than a decade ago, wrote this to my self, and it sets up some sort of harmonic ringing that is vibrating my bones. Time collapses. Space collapses and I can't feel my body. I just read what before I wrote:
( two entries worth of past writing )
Over and over I've posted this quote I received from Ryan, which he attributes to Hitherby Dragons:
“So what is Hell?”
“A place where there’s something you can’t let go of,” I said.
Now I try to climb back into my body, finish dinner, brush my teeth, set things out so I remember them for tomorrow at work. I want to sit here like a stone monument to myself all night, staring into space, reading old journal entries, reading old poetry. It's eleven years later, though. Somewhere in that time I've picked up the strength to shut the lid of the laptop just a little bit sooner.
We had written to each other, back and forth. We had spiral-bound notebooks and I'd write in one and give it to him, then he'd write and give it to me. I don't remember how many notebooks it was. Over time he wrote less and less.
When it was over I wrote so much. What I wrote then feels so resonant now, eleven years later, that I don't have anything left to add to it. I'm hurt tonight but my past self wrote this to me more than a decade ago, wrote this to my self, and it sets up some sort of harmonic ringing that is vibrating my bones. Time collapses. Space collapses and I can't feel my body. I just read what before I wrote:
( two entries worth of past writing )Over and over I've posted this quote I received from Ryan, which he attributes to Hitherby Dragons:
“So what is Hell?”
“A place where there’s something you can’t let go of,” I said.
Now I try to climb back into my body, finish dinner, brush my teeth, set things out so I remember them for tomorrow at work. I want to sit here like a stone monument to myself all night, staring into space, reading old journal entries, reading old poetry. It's eleven years later, though. Somewhere in that time I've picked up the strength to shut the lid of the laptop just a little bit sooner.
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