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Joe is in my mind. I know he is dead, I attended his funeral. Yet here he is, larger than life, in my head. Perhaps he keeps reaching out from the grave because he is renting a space in a small portion of my soul. He is ingrained within me. Maybe I need an exorcism. Ok, that was dramatic. I just wish I could stop thinking about him…us. I am keeping busy and surrounding myself with fabulous friends but it’s impossible to avoid all quiet moments.
In my quiet moments he creeps in like a virus. I miss him, or I miss the way I felt with him….I am not do sure which, maybe both. I haven’t laid eyes on him since I pulled the text plug. I am not sure how I will feel. In my fantasies and my mock conversations he sees me and realizes what a horrible mistake he made: We begin again. In my reality I know he is bad for me. He pulls the worst of my triggers. He provides total uncertainty. Uncertainty is the number one thing I grew up with, day in and day out. We are drawn to what we know.May 19, 2014 at 12:04 pm #53089
ur body recognizes what we know before our mind grabs hold to shake us back to reality. At some level the uncertainty is comforting. It’s like an old blanket, soft and tattered from years of use. We repeat what we know, it is instinctual to go for what feels familiar bad or not.
My head will definitely win this battle regardless of what occurs when I run into him. I am strong. I am using all of my consciousness to remind myself of what serves me and what does not. When I see him I will absolutely maintain my cool, in charge exterior at all costs. He is bad for me. He is bad for me. He is bad for me. I will hold that phrase and imagine it written on a post-it note on his forehead. The tough part with Joe is he sees past the exterior. That is how he took hold of me, that’s how he brushed my soul. He quite literally saw into me….funny those words. It is almost as if he sawed me right in half and discarded the front that everyone else gets to see.May 19, 2014 at 12:04 pm #53090
He discarded the shell, he discarded my control. That’s the problem with Joe. That is what I am addicted to. I am addicted to the way he cut through my surface and exposed the vulnerable girl within. I am addicted to the way he took that girl in, the way he drank her in: He absorbed me.
I miss him. I miss the feeling of being with him. He warmed my soul with a look, with a touch, with and without words. I give myself permission to miss him. I give myself permission to lay flowers at his grave.
“Here-in Lies Joe”
“He is Bad For Me”
P.S. I believe in Fairy Tales without anxiety
Todays Mantra: I Love Me.
P.S.S. As I walked down the street contemplating this latest blog, a thought occurred. Is it Joe that really permeates my thoughts? Or is it not being able to have what I think I want? Food for thought. Food for tomorrow’s entry perhaps.
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