Looking Back Through Tinted Windows

I started this blog because I wanted to change my life. Because I needed an outlet and because I hurt so much and sharing it helped with that. I stopped because after a while all it did was keep the memory fresh. I finally reached a point where I had tortured myself enough. I found the only way out was forward and that I would have to assist in the murder of those memories I held so dear.

I started to let myself forget. To let myself just drift through life and think about things without her in it. I stopped working out, I stopped meds, I stopped therapy. I’ve seen them almost as victories. Balms I no longer need on my slowly closing wounds.

I feel I’ve slipped a little too far. I still have these moments. Where I trace her shape in the dark next to me where she would have been. I still have these moments where the tears come hot and unbidden from my eyes and my heart spasms to pump regret and acid through my veins.

I still dream a little bit, of it working out someday. I told myself a thousand times that the changes I made in my life weren’t for her. I’m not sure I was being honest with myself. I hoped she’d hear about them, I hoped they’d make a difference. The further away she slid and the more she detached the less these things seemed important. Who was I impressing now?

I live in Hayward, I work in San Mateo. My dating life is complicated because I like it that way, because it distracts me and keeps me busy thinking about 1000 things besides her. It’s still not enough. Now I’m disappointing her ghost and dating an endless string of girls while my body and my mind slip back into a perfunctory state of good-enough.

I think too much about relationships. About other people and women, and Carrie. I don’t think enough about me. I define myself by what kind of mate I can get or what kind I deserve. Is there someone “better” than her? I don’t know it would be hard to measure but I don’t think I’ve gotten close. I don’t know how to. I’m terrified of really loving someone else and I wish after all this time that that feeling would simply stop.

It’s still hard to get through a day, empty as they are. I need to fill my days with me and not other people. I know that. I believe it. I just have to act.