Waste Of Paint

Thursday, September 03, 2015

dark times

I had a close friend, sometimes considered my best friend, move back to my town this past week.  He has been gone for 4 months.   Him and his partner moved in with several friends of mine, started projects with them, are coming to the reading group I go to every week, and he quit the project I do with him.  It feels like a storm came and is washing through me.  I was excited for this for a long time and it feels like I have been sucker punched, hit in the stomach, and I am keeled over trying to stand back up.  Part of me just wants to lay down and die.  Part of my just wants to die.  I am still scared of what that means so I know I will live, but what is a life on the ground or on your knees.  I have been learning how to stand for 31 years and every day it is a struggle to get out of bed and get on my feet.  In fact, most days I end up back in bed, once , twice, the three times, unable to move.  I become paralyzed by fear of standing and what it means.  I carry with me the pain of past lovers and friends, the shitty things I have done, and the shitty things they have done to me.  I want to completely destroy the image I have of myself and write a new one.  Am I strong enough.  I don't know.

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