This week marks two years since the worst week of my entire life took place. I hadn't thought about it in a rather long time, but unfortunately the beginning of that week corresponds with the birth of a friend's child. Remembering that he was turning two, it all came back.
Well I don't want it anymore. The memories of my pain, and of how absolutely skewed my 'vision' was as a result. I remember waking up at 5am every morning, afraid to let anything out of my sight for fear it would all go away. I remember thinking if I could just fix myself and who I was, it would be okay again. I remember knowing that it was because I was not good enough, that I was unworthy. I deserved every bit of it. That kind of self loathing is not something I care to remember.
But neither are the anger, hatred, and feelings of betrayal. I don't want to blame myself anymore, but neither do I want to lose the indifference and start hating again. I've found a wonderful life that I don't want to taint with this nonsense. I wish I could hide from this past and this fear, but it comes back at the worst times.
I am again starting to hope that people who've wronged me are miserable. I don't even want to give a shit anymore! But it comes back again...
So today is two years since I found out the worst of the betrayals. I don't want to think about it or remember it, but I can't seem to help myself.
Other than that bit of joy, things have been weird for other reasons too. I don't need more on top of that. I'm looking forward to things going back to the way they were last year. But I suppose things won't go back, but I long for them to go forward.
