on letting go

(…) so now i’m on a bus writing to you. it’s about 1:45am, everyone is sleeping and the stars are gorgeous. the engine of the bus is relaxing. it’s pitch black except for this little light above my head. my feet hurt from all the walking, along with my brain from thoughts of the little time spent with such a beautiful you. it’s been two days away from where my heart is, and it already feels like an eternity

i’m not good at packing.

i over-think and under-plan and fuck, i’m a mess. frankly, this is the first move i’ve made wherein i am not running, or doing things hastily. this has been planned and carefully thought out and yet, i’m programmed. i’ve been wired to act as if moving means hiding, running. i am so overly stressed by my situation at work, and i’m worn. on the bright side, i’ve been carefully boxing things i know i’ll enjoy having in me and dan’s apartment. i’m purging the poison i’ve been stowing in my boxes, in closets, under piles of clothes, in my heart. i’m ridding myself of furniture we don’t need to make room for pieces that will complement everything else we own. i’m choosing things based on dan’s taste, and mine. things that will mesh together in our home.

i trashed my m box.

i’m so sick of this negative non-sense i’ve been carrying around like a coward- like some sort of fucking medal showcasing my broken pieces. and i’m done with that. it’s a new year and a new opportunity and a new house. i’m starting from scratch, again… and this time i’m doing it right. i’m completing my healing process and moving forward. m has no right to invade a space i can finally call home, with a man who has me completely wrapped up inside of him. dan has helped me heal more than he’ll ever be able to understand, and i’m so grateful for his patience.

originally i wanted to make a big production of the disposing of the m box. but truthfully? the scars are reminder enough- what good will it to to wallow and cry and give him the fucking privilege of making me cry, again. and so i scrapped that idea, briefly sifted through the only happy pages of our relationship, and then trashed it. goodbye, good riddance, fuck you. that’s it. that’s all it deserved.

i am so drained from work and trying to deal with my anger. i had a panic attack for the first time since, well, m… to be honest. i haven’t felt so ripped apart and beaten down and years, and it’s time to be healthy. i can’t keep letting people destroy me like this if i ever plan to be happy again, on the inside, i mean. my brains, my heart. i need to fix myself.

what am i looking forward to this weekend? alone time with my lover. not doing much of anything, really. we’re celebrating valentine’s day on sunday- and i’m not quite sure what dan has up his sleeve, but i do know i’ll be giving him the framed (silly & naked) pictures my friend took of me, and i can’t wait to see the hilarious look on his face.

tomorrow’s a new day, and i’m turning today’s page.

i’ll see ya’ll on monday.

xx

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9 thoughts on “on letting go

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