Hell and you

I’d crawl in bed with you…

Even on someone else’s blood, 

On top of someone else’s love

In the worst motel we find

I’m remembering again. Anxiety permeates into dreams. Not nightmares, but enough to make me question trying again. There is no one to reach out to at 4am so I am on my own. A concept I am trying to let go of. I’m not on my own. I have support. I have people I can rely on, people I trust.

It’s not easy always being wrong though. It’s not easy telling people you’re still a mess. That you’ve been frantically cleaning this whole time but you’re still a mess. God damn I’ve been at it this whole time and made all this progress but I’m still a mess. I’m thankful for those that have stuck by me, but I’m waiting to tell them something good for once.

Hey I’m a normal and stable human now! Look at my good choices!

For some of those people, it’s too late for these things. My father is dead… he didn’t get to see me graduate because I was late. He won’t get to see me get married because I took my time. He never got to see a picture of you because I forgot. My last chance to make a difference and I forgot. My mom’s mind is too far gone. She didn’t get to see me graduate because her mind was deteriorating into a nightmare. She won’t get to see me get married because I just ended the only shot at that before she goes. She doesn’t even know I ended it because she isn’t capable of creating new memories.

And so for them at least… all they’ll know is that I only got so far. To them I am frozen in place. And in many ways they aren’t wrong.

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