Today is just full of unwanted catharsis. I realized something really sad, a little while ago. I haven’t been talking about the friends I grew up with as much lately because Charlie thinks I fixate on those people, and that period of time to an odd and unhealthy degree (and this is true). So, I’ve been trying to focus less on those memories. I know I would dwell on my memories of them, and create little daydream fantasies about having more time with them, because Iost most of them, and that really destroyed me as a person. It was like having pieces of me stripped away, one at a time. I wanted to follow more than one of them. When I say I lost them, I mean they died, or went away (to prison) for a very long time. Again, I’ve been struggling not to fixate, lately. And… I realized something today. I’ve always known that I was unprepared, and lacked the emotional maturity, and coping skills, to deal with those losses, at this time. The thing is… I never figured out how to deal with it. I never… got string enough to tolerate what I’d lost. So… in a way… I just didn’t move on. I continued to live in those memories, and fantasies, because that way, I didn’t have to figure out how to deal with what I’d lost. I didn’t have to face up to it, in it’s totality, because, I had this retreat. I’m a writer, after all. My imagination id vivid. I could keep myself at play in fields of my own memories, and dream up wonderful fantasies, endlessly. But… that’s over, now. It has to be. When I was 20, my friend (and lover) Michael died. When I was 21, my friend Jazz died. The latter was a drug overdose (intentional), and the former was shot (by another friend, no less – his and mine). I’ve never dealt with this. Not really. I’ve talked about it, but I’ve never really… let them go. I’ve stayed with them, or kept them with me, far past the point of remembrance. I need to let them go.
I need to learn to let go of the past.
The thing is… some of you are familiar with my rants about "a foundation." The idea that… if you have something solid… something to land on, when all the other floors collaps beneathe you… then, I think it’s possible to find happiness, even in the hardet of times. At least, that’s how it was for me. When I was a teenager, I had my friends. An amazing group of people… all criminals in one way or another. Drug addicts… drug dealers… lackies… and I loved them. Jazz could’ve been an incredibly successful musician. Michael could’ve been just about anything. God… I loved these people. But… Jazz and Mike don’t exist, anymore, and I do. That means… I can’t exist with them, anymore. I’ve felt really raw, lately, not letting myself talk about them, or indulge in any daydreams about them, but… that’s what I need to do to move on. I need to let them be my past. And, for now… I need to stop thinking so much about them.
Do ever wonder who you’d be, if you could get it right? Do you know for sure if you’d even recognize yourself?
The girl I was certainly wouldn’t see herself in the woman I’ve become. She was strong. She was tough. She was self-possessed, and ambitious, and she worked her way out of the backside of hell. I’m just this nervous wreck who made a mess of it all.
