This might be the most dangerous blog I’ve written. I say that because I don’t actually want to ever remember this night, and feeling like this. My pride wants to brush it off and act like I’m ok. So I won’t know until this is complete as to whether or not I’ll even post it. But…my heart is beating really fast and I’m having a hard time breathing.
I’ve spent the majority of tonight pretending. In moments I wanted spill my guts to my friends and let them console me. But then I just suited up in full armor and kept smiling. I knew a little after 3am I needed to call it a night. I couldn’t fake it anymore…I slipped into the bathroom and locked myself in one of only two stalls. Barely fast enough…when the tears came, I had been holding them back all night. Idk how long I was in there before someone was knocking. Talk about embarrassing. At least, lucky for me it was my friend…who knew…why I was being the way I was. She knew the moment she got home and I was not dressed…with damp hair, staring at my reflection like a psychopath. The flat iron and blow dryer were both plugged in…and I was just staring at this person I didn’t recognize.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
I made eye contact with her for one moment through the mirror…and she knew instantly. I didn’t even speak and she just looked back at me and said “her” name in a questioning way. I nodded but felt naive, and childish for being upset so I looked away. Then she spoke again….saying her next words very carefully, but very matter of fact, “Well…Taschka, you knew this was probably the case, didn’t you?”
I nodded, and started to do my hair. She stood there for a little longer watching me…wondering if I might break down. All of my friends know how sensitive I am. But I just stared at the mirror, doing my hair…with my very best brave face on.
And I kept that face on until the moment in the bathroom stall.
So now it’s almost 5am and I’m in bed writing.
The first thing I told myself once I realized how upset I was…was to not blog about it.
But writing is the only way I know how to work through shit. Not to mention, all of you….in some strange way…help. Knowing the reasons why you even bother to read…specifically my writing…means a lot. Your emails about my words…mean the world. So if I’m going to say this to anyone, it might as well be all of you.
But…what…exactly? …is where I’m confused. As usual most of my discomfort is a result of my own emotion. But in this instance….assumptions…or weird fucking feelings I’d had for a long time…that came to be fact.
And when feelings become fact, they can do more harm then when they were just an “idea.” Though the “fact” itself…in time…will…could be what heals me. I’ve known that all along. And truthfully I’ve wanted to stay in the dark for fear that this day might come…
I feel like I sliced my arm. That fresh cut turned into a scab, and was itchy and scratchy but semi protected. Today, though, that scab was ripped off and the knife sliced right through the same cut.
I hurt that bad right now.
It will scab up again, and finally heal…properly this time. But right now…
Is one of those nights where the view outside the window is speaking to me. Asking me to disintegrate into little itty bitty pieces and let myself blow right out the window.
I already knew, what I found out. Why must everything feel so dramatic. Is it because I make it this way?
Deep down, I’m scared shitless…of myself and how I might act…or…god…I’m so out of it right now. My eyes are blurring. I revealed something pretty important earlier this evening. And though I didn’t say how big what I felt was, at least I got it out. Only to be matched with even bigger news. Almost all my questions have answers, and so many things make sense now…that once were just…things…in my head. Trust your gut people. Always.
Friends come only once in a while…at least the kind I can call a “friend.” And, that means something to me. So I’m not going to spend too much time sulking. Because that’s not fair to them. But tonight…
I am broken.
I might be for a little while. But it’s needed….just what I needed.
So what if…
…Just broken…and breaking as I type.
I’ll get the broom out in the next few days and begin sweeping up the debris of myself.
Putting it all back together will be the hard part.