Sometimes I wish that figuring out the thoughts in my head was easy and simple. An instruction manual would be nice. Instead there are vivid dreams, 5am wake-ups, old photographs (and startlingly new ones of someone I barely recognize), and the inability to understand exactly what it is I want. I don’t want to be alone, but, at the same time, I don’t want to be with anyone either. I know that really doesn’t make any sense at all, but I’m queen of not making any sense. Especially at five-in-the-morning.
I want to be a carefree girl. I want it to be easy to through caution to the wind, to leap, without worrying about if I’ll fall or not. But I’m just not ready. Maybe after almost six months, I should be ready to move on, to forget everything and start over. But if I’m still counting the months… if it still eats away at me… if I’m still so angry… if he’s still on my mind… if I still miss him… if I still find myself bursting into tear at the oddest thought or memory… then I’m just not ready. I want to be ready, I do. But I’m still mourning everything I’ve lost, and I’m still dealing with having to hear every. fucking. detail of their life together. I’m lonely, yes, and I don’t want to be alone (in the long run). But at the same time, I’m not ready not to be alone yet.