Thursday, June 9, 2016

What is this life?

I don't get it. I really don't. I'm not unhappy about that, just making an observation.

I went out with a friend tonight and yes, I'm a little bit drunk. I was hoping to get hit on. Can you believe it? I was wanting to be desired. I wouldn't have thought that would come out this early on but it did and it isn't the first time.

What is this life? Why do I want to be desired when I still pine for you, S? I know you would be okay with this, in fact, I know you would be ecstatic. You would be so overjoyed to see how well I'm doing. But am I? I really don't know. I haven't had a grief wave in almost a month and I have been able to overcome the sad moments quite easily. I'm still sleeping in the whole bed, not keeping your side sacred and I'm feeling like I want to be a desirable woman. What is that? I don't know. All I know is that I miss you and would have you back in a fucking second but I also really want to live and am excited about my future all at the same time.

What does that make this life? What is it that drives us and makes us want one thing while at the same time wanting the complete opposite? I will never know. Maybe you know now where you are. Send me a clue, S. Send me something. I want to know that I'm not crazy because it's really hard to tell right now.

I love you so much, S. Just because I don't cry for you as much anymore doesn't mean I don't miss you with every cell in my body. I do. I just focus on other things now. It's hard to reconcile that at the moment. How can I still love you and miss you just as much as I did and not be devastated by it anymore? I really don't know and sometimes it really does bother me.

What the hell is this life? I just don't recognize anything anymore and sometimes that's okay, other times it feels empty and numb. Sometimes it feels fucking exciting and I won't sugarcoat it, it really does.

Just tell me, S. What is this life? What can I do to not screw up the rest of the short time I have on this planet? Or does that even matter? Just tell me what I can do to make the next few months feel more sane. Just tell me anything. I miss you. I miss knowing what life was with you.

As for now, I just have to keep asking, "What is this life? What is anything anymore?"