Today I edited but for the most part I just wanted to get out of town. I woke up late after having taken some Tylenol PM last night to help with sleep. The entire day I just felt like something was a few steps off. But I edited. I have some days where I’m just slogging through the book and I wonder who cares, why am I doing this? I think those are the days I should probably write something.
Today I have been in a bit of a funk, feeling like something is off in the world right now and I either don’t know how to fix it, or it isn’t mine to fix. It’s been a quiet, lonely day. I felt sick earlier. My stomach was messed up. Maybe it was something I ate. These days when that happens I’m the only one who knows, because I’m the only one who cares.
A little while ago, someone asked me “Do you actually think you are alone?” Yes, I do. Thank you for your concern. You were one of the reasons I didn’t feel alone for a while, and then you became one of the big reasons I did.
And fuck anyone else who walked away figuring I would be fine without them. Sometimes I’m not fine. I guess the difference between them and me is I still care. And they don’t think of me at all.
One of the hard things about solitude is looking back at the few times you weren’t alone and missing those moments. You wonder if you’ll ever have anything beautiful again. You miss those firsts. The first kiss. The first dance. Like lightning strikes. Intense yet fleeting. You can’t recreate those moments, and some days it is worse living in your memory of it. You get these moments where you want to get mad. There’s no use in that either.
Days like this I know I could have done more. And it’s late at night and I think of things like driving across the desert when I was 15 and I got to control the radio for once. The way the rains of April had fallen that Spring break and I listened to Queensryche on the radio, with the scent of desert flowers heavy in the air. Just Another Rainy Night Without You. It hits different now. But it’s such a sorrow that I felt the echoes of it even back then.
After the edits I did today, I don’t feel confident. I feel like today was a wash. More of the same awaits me. More disappointment. More reaching for something I can never have. Connection. I feel like everything I need is on the other side of glass and I can only watch it.
Today I’m three times as older than I was that day of driving across the desert. Today was another wasted day. Only enough in the tank to get a few of the things done I needed. The rest is just waiting it out. I would have never guessed it would be like this.