i never know where to start.
i don't know what i feel about anything because everything feels like the breath is being knocked out of me.
i don't know if i am running away from dealing with what happened between us by just not thinking about it or if i actually just don't care anymore. i feel like i don't care about much lately. i am waiting for it to sneak up on me. maybe it already did though.
i am terrified of the day i run into you on the street. not knowing what i will feel. not knowing how either of us will react. not wanting to talk to you at all, ever, and how it is so strange to feel that way about someone you saw almost every day for a year and a half. a huge part of me wants to erase that chunk of my life, pretend like it never happened.
i don't want to remember all the fights, living together, your hands gripping my shoulders and shoving me into the closet, bleaching your blood off the floor, you shouting in my face, telling me how fat i was, how sad, how pathetic, what a doormat, you throwing things at me, knocking all of my books off the shelf, holding my things hostage until you got what you wanted from me, being pressured into sex and feeling more violated than i have ever felt. over and over and over again. i don't want to remember these things, so the good goes out with the bad. because let's be honest, the bad was really bad.
and i don't really know how i could let anyone new into my life right now, still carrying this around. i know that i need to be alone for a while but it gets hard some days, when i miss the small things. someone to spoon, that feeling of starting to fall for someone, sharing tea in the morning. so i just hang out at home because avoiding people is the easiest way to avoid accidentally allowing myself to get involved with someone new. i feel like i have barricaded myself in with razor wire, putting up signs to keep everyone out.
it works, at least.