Secrets From A Fat.. SO?!

Where Does the Good Go?

I’m  sorry I haven’t been writing much this month. I know I don’t owe apologies to anyone for that but I do feel as if I’m not only letting myself down by not writing, but the people who have been following me. I feel as if I have put myself on hold. I feel stuck. And if I’m being honest with myself, I haven’t put much of an effort into writing either.

I’ve had certain thoughts on my brain, thoughts I can’t really develop in blog form. So instead of writing out these thoughts and feeling a therapeutic release after posting them, they become blocked. Like a car stalled in traffic with now a huge pile up behind it. And I know that buildup, that mess, is my fault. There wouldn’t be a buildup of feelings if I would only stop walking away from the scene of the car wreck and instead pull myself under the hood and dealing with them.

At least I recognize that I’ve been running away. Maybe not so much only in blog form but in conversations to people as well. I’m used to holding back words and having unfinished business with friends or old lovers. Blogging has sort of been a small release from forgiving myself to unfinished business. Because in my head, I replay words I’d speak, sometimes shout, and even sometimes words I’d even like to yell.

For instance, I would tell one friend that while I love her dearly, that I wished her all the happiness in the world and genuinely consider her a good friend but, almost every time I talk to her, I want to curl up into the fetal position and cry. How every time I see her face, I can only relate it back to him. I would let her know how much I want her happy, support and be friends but how much talking to her hurts me. I would let her know I don’t want to be that person, someone who can’t let go and be genuinely happy but it’s hard. And I’m trying.

I would confess to an ex boyfriend that I have missed the bond of friendship that I thought we had while we dated. A bond I thought was stronger than anything in the world. I would confess to completely handling how things ended wrong, but that I was only a kid. I didn’t want to break your heart and honestly… I messed up. I would confess to feeling too over protective on who you dated to over compensate that guilt for how I handled things. I wanted you to date the Princess you always thought I was, but never actually was. I confess to wanting that bond to stay intact, to not let anything change – again that nievity- and still be your best friend. Because I honestly still needed a friend. I confess to getting angry because I felt like you abandoned me when I needed your friendship the most. For so long I reached out whenever I was in need and you were always there to grab my hand and then all of a sudden, you weren’t. And I was scared. And alone. I’d confess to still missing that bond and still wishing you were in my life. I confess to feeling conflicted to wanting to leave you and all those ugly feelings in the past to still wanting that utopia ideal of us being friends. Because deep down I confess to still caring. I wouldn’t be writing all of this if I didn’t.

And there are other confessions I’d make to people but those are the ones resting most heavily on my mind. But like Sara & Tegan say, Where does the good go? What do you do with the left over you? I have a million other distractions on top of this. I’m worried about if I’ll ever get to go back to school and how I’ll afford it. I’m worried about getting everything finalized together for finally moving in with Deyvn & Jack. I’m worried about having to fight back on an old apartment bogus charges that I just found out about. And then… I’m afraid of the reality of living with Deyvn & Jack. Right now it’s just a dream, a fantasy. But last night I just sat down and imagined myself in my new home and realized, shit! I’m scared! Everything is going to be permanently different and while that’s exciting, I’m also terrified out of my wits. It’s surreal. It’s like waking up the first morning after arriving at summer camp and realizing, damn! I’m not at home anymore!  I’m worried about getting everything ready for this move and I’m scared at the after math.

So where did the love go? I’ve let myself get so caught up in my insecurities instead of dealing with them that I’ve let them built them into a mountain! But just by writing down these feelings, make them easier to dig myself out from. And I think I need to process my feelings in a daily format for a while. I’ll do both, write in article style like I have been, where I have a point to make but mostly will be uninteresting nonsense as I confess to every whim I can jot down from my head. At least I’ll be writing in that journal style for awhile. Because sometimes you just realize that what once helped you before, isn’t providing that same emotional strength. So here’s to new “growth”.


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