I was doing okay. I mean as much as one can ‘be oka’ in a mess of a situation such as this. It hurt, but I put it aside. I walked around the wall that presented itself before me, rather than actually climbing the obstical head strong like I normally would. And now the wall is still fucking there. I did pretty great not thinking about it at first, by covering that wall in posters and surface distractions. But that’s the problem, the were just that; surface, temporary. I recorded a track in my head that prompted me to forget about it, and it informed me that these things are for the best this way. I dearly wanted you to be okay. And I knew shuting me out would probably help in some way or another. But that tape I’ve played in my head is wearing thin, and the message is hard to hear. The songs on the raido that reind me of you hurt again, and my self-help recording no longer has the power to drown them out. I’ll tell a story, one which was neutral of names before, but now your name will slip out like word vomit and it burns my tongue forcing me to quickly lose any desire to finish the story out loud. This is because the rush of highs and lows that has happened in the past months streching behind me quicky overwhelms my body. I am tired. And I miss you, even though I know I shouldn’t. You me taught me to be strong and strive fr better things. You taught me not to settle for anything less than I desereve. You got the ball rolling in this chapter of my life. Most of all, you taught me to love myself when nobody else did; to stop running, to trust. And I did. I trusted the hymns you provided for comfort and then before I knew it you were offin the distance out running the renegade. And what I’ve gained from that experience is beyond any knowlege others have tried to pass to me. I miss you, and its wrong; and I know I shouldn’t.
