I Can Feel a Hot One

Today..

I feel as if time has completely slipped into a different world. My sights are adjusted. I live the single life. I'm selfish in my actions and thoughts. I hang out with MY friends, go where I want to eat and so on. Its strange. For so long, my thoughts were occupied on one person. What were they thinking? How is he? Should I ask him to come over tonight? I should help him with homework. etc. I completely cared for one person. I gave my heart. I feel as if I gave too much at times. Sometimes, I feel I didn't give enough. In I Can Feel a Hot One by Manchester Orchestra, sort of describes it. Well not completely in context to the song but the line "Cause enough is never quite enough. Whats enough?" That is how I feel about what happened to me. My love was never quite enough... but what was enough for him? It made me wonder. Are you happy and in love with someone because of what they do for you? or is it what you do for them. I think the second. I loved him so deeply because I was willing to do so much for him. I was not whipped; I knew boundaries. I just was willing to devote myself to him when he asks for help, hug, or a mug of tea. I wanted him happy. I wanted to be happy. I thought we were. The thing is, I chose to feel it. I chose to love him. I had a choice. Just as I have a choice now. Get over him... or hold on till my lips turn blue. Now, I have to chose to not love him. I still care about him though. I fear I always will. I know it takes time to recover. That is what my mother said at least... and my grandmother. It will take time to lick my wounds, so-to-speak, and heal. I'm keeping my chin up and I am determined to learn how to have fun again and love life. It will take time to see the headlights of a car and not think of his. Or to go on top of my roof and forget the first time I said "I Love You". Or to see another couple kiss each other on the forehead and not feel his lips on mine. It will take time... I'm afraid.

Another obstacle I am tackling is the loss of my grandmother. She lived with me all through my junior year and summer. He was around the whole time; holding me and caring for me in one of my darkest times. I guess it was too dark for him. The loss of him, and my grandmother now is a retrogression to August third. The day she... I have to face my demons now. I have uncover the feelings I so willingly hid underneath... my bed or somewhere. Anyways, they are here now. I don't know how to handle them. They creep in during the night, in my dreams, in the morning when it is still dark outside. During the day time, they seem to fade in the light. Too transparent I suppose. They would rather solidify at night, when I am most vulnerable. I kept a journal during my grandmothers transition. I faced death. I heard her last gasp. Its strange, now, that I look back and see that I wanted her to pass on. Not in vain, but in hope that she would be free of suffering. Free from the bars of our hospital bed. Free from the catheter and the single redundant window. It always had the same squirrel visit every day. I miss the nights I spent with her. I miss her laugh; her bright blue eyes. She was always there, willing to listen. Sometimes we talked of nothing and sat in silence. It was all I needed. I needed to just be with her. She is my grandma, but also so much more. She taught me so much, she loved me, she was unconditional. She just wasn't immortal.

Another restless night.