I’m going back to Wadsworth soon. I know I was just there. I’m looking for answers in the past. Maybe looking back can help me find my way forward. Right now, I’m willing to try anything, ANYTHING to get out of my funk. Plus it never ever hurts to have Marie’s Pizza. 
I rarely ever look to my past, especially the distant past to find out who I am. I can already remember most of what’s happened to me, in excruciating detail. My need to get past this hump supersedes the usual methods, as those are not working.
I’m so lost right now. I’m drowning in a sea of emotion. I choke on feelings I can’t reconcile. Clearest memories don’t fade and torture me. What I face now, the darkest parts of my past, somewhere between adolescence and the inkling of adulthood, when I made the worst mistakes. My first love was also my first loss.
I’m nothing like who I once was. It feels more like a dream or some other person, like I’m remembering someone else’s past. I cannot wear those masks anymore. The skin doesn’t fit. There are no answers in that dark place. Only pain. I paid a hefty toll to learn those lessons and I’ve never forgotten, nor have I ever slipped back into that mindset. Those scars run too deep to ever be forgot.
Then what can I find in the past? I’ll go back further. To a happy time, a time of ignorant bliss. There was a time when I was full of wonder and didn’t have all this skepticism. Can you ever truly go back?
I want to say this is stupid. I want to scoff at this idea that looking for answers to the present problem in the past can do nothing, but I’ll give anything a try, no matter how ridiculous the source of the idea. I’m desperate. I’ll even take ideas from the most unreliable and uncouth places.
“Restore my broken dreams, Shattered like a falling glass, I’m not ready to be broken just yet, A lesson once learned is so hard to forget”
― Sting
0 Comments