That pretty much sums up the last few months. I think I'm still stuck there... in July. I wish I were going backwards. Like I've admitted before: everything in my world is split into before's and after's. Anytime I find a letter, go to trash an old email, find a photo online, or open up to an older entry in my journal, I think: What's the date? Oh. That was before. And I sit in awe of my younger self, because—albeit months—I am so much older.
I think this experience has dated me to, at least, 50.
Maybe it is the change in time, "falling back," and the earlier sunset, or simply the missing. Not only do I miss a friend, but the pain of "without" seems like it will never let go. And do I want it to? Maybe I'm just sick of the pain. Either way, things have been extremely difficult lately [i.e. getting out of bed, conjuring motivation for responsibilities, breathing].
So there's that, as my roommate would so aptly mimic me.
Last night, as we sat across from each other at Panera, Kelly blew my mind.
"Like twilight?" she asked, after I tried to explain the part of the day that is the hardest.
"Well, I call it sundowning, but... yeah, I mean, yeah."
"Hm. You know, all day long you're body is in control. At night, your soul takes over, so, during twilight, you're most vulnerable. You're in transition."
I think my jaw dropped, for real.
My soul takes over...?
"I'm scared of my soul, then," I answered.
Rather than go on to explain or rattle off a list of the whys [I'd rather smush myself into a tiny hole for the rest of my life and never emerge], I'll stop. I'll just stop here.
mt
