Flashback

Flashback

I have an astonishingly clear memory of one of the days where I went to help him rebuild the basement. I stood at the top of the stairs much longer than usual. I was willing myself to go down.

I did so by telling myself I was okay with the prospect of never coming back up.

He knows he's not blocked because he called me at 3 in the morning last night. I didn't pick up, but he'd notice that it didn't go straight to voicemail.

Reminder to self: turn your ringer off.

Texts on deck

I’m still going through old texts; I have a ton to share.

I have avoided capturing my responses thus far.  In all frankness, they are humiliating. I wish it wasn’t me.  It doesn’t really feel like me. However, it was me. Part of healing is forgiving yourself (mon dieu), and I don’t think I’ll be able to do that unless I release them.

Depresh has consumed me since looking through these things, so I am barely keeping up with essentials.  I can’t release anything right now.  But I will, periodically.

This is me being brave.

This worries me.

I can’t tell if I don’t like kissing in general or if I just don’t like kissing him.

Hazard of being with someone who crushes you every day of your entire adult life.

Gay culture is wishing you could go all the way back and be yourself from the beginning

It INFURIATES me that his words still make me cry this hard.