Day to Day

Flowing like rivers,

From ducts and caverns,

In pools of emerald,

Memories overflow.

Too Much

One day you can feel like you can move mountains,

The next it feels like you're being crushed under them.

Whiteout

Cold winters, bringing chills

Without warmth

I shiver hopelessly.

Saying versus Doing.

Sometimes I wonder whether or not everything that I have worked for was worth it, whether or not the field that I pursued was really worth pursuing. I let these thoughts bubble inside of my head, somewhat crushing me in fear, pushing me out of doing things that I used to enjoy. Writing was one of the things that made me feel happy in the past. I was able to create something from nothing, much like an artist or someone who would sketch or draw. I was always envious of others who could draw. I can draw, but I don’t consider it amazing. I can free-form draw some things but I never felt they were adequate. This becomes a problem when you want to write your own graphic novel. I say it repeatedly, but I never do it. I need to learn to stop saying things and start doing. That’s one of my biggest problems, and I have been starting to do things, more than say I am. It’s working out, and it’s good.

Time

I have no idea what I want. Every time I think of something that I can do, I get this crippling fear of being unable to do it, unable to fail, as if I cannot even try and fail, to at least say that I tried. I made a lot of mistakes; I have a lot of regrets. Regrets have lead to guilt, and guilt has led to self-loathing. I try to remember all of the good times, there were plenty. Each time I recall something good, I feel worse. I hate to know what my life has come to. People say: “one day at a time”, “patience”, “it will all be okay”, “hope for the best and expect the worst”, and I want to believe. I truly believe that everything will be okay and that I know what I had was real, it was true, and it was to me, perfect. 

I think at times that I am expecting too much. Do I expect to much of myself and is that the root of my problems? I don’t know. I say that a lot recently: “I don’t know”. It’s because I don’t, I really don’t know. I had thought my life was working out and I was finally on the up and up, and now I have just curved back into the same thinking, the same place in my mind in which I am unable to really handle anything or anyone.

I don’t know what to expect of myself anymore. I had thought that I was living my life as a good person that I was doing well by those that I loved. I thought that it was okay for me to judge and be angry at certain people in my life because they had somehow done me wrong. I held too many grudges and I let them get the best of me. Now, truly alone, or at least feeling truly alone, I find that I cannot comprehend why I had ever been the way I was. I am trying to understand myself as myself now. I am trying to understand if there is really a me that is meant to be happy. Every time I had really felt happy was with you. You were really the glue that held my happiness together. That was an unfair burden. It’s just as unfair as all of the burdens I had placed on myself to succeed. 

It’s unfair of me to have expected you to carry that weight. I didn’t think it bore any weight. Just being with you made me happy, made me feel free. I talked about you all the time with my friends, and even with people who didn’t know you. I always referred to you as “my girlfriend” with people I didn’t know. I would share stories that even you yourself thought weren’t funny to other people, because I myself thought they were funny or cute. I understand how that must have been frustrating, how I must have hurt you or put you on the spot by doing so. I never meant to, I really didn’t. I know that there are a lot of things like this that we had discussed that bothered you about me. I know that I wasn’t fair to your needs or feelings and that in the end I had really no idea that any of this was going on because I was either in denial or oblivious.

Even now, writing this, I feel as if I can see all of my mistakes as I go through each and every moment with a fine tooth comb. I didn’t see what I had, what an amazing person that I had been with, and how easily it was for me to make you feel forced to avoid letting me carry some of your pressure, your problems. I hope that in time, the wounds heal, and the sadness fades. I hope that in time, I can prove that I am not the man that I was. I hope that in time, I can be the person that I am supposed to be, not in the eyes of other people, but in my own eyes, and if there is anything that I have learned from all of the advice, the reading, and the talking, it’s that time is the great equalizer. It’s that same idea that leaves me in fear every morning. I need to conquer that fear.