The Inner Workings Of A Crazy Girl

Olympic National Park, Washington, 1984


Stop telling me I'll be okay. What if I won't be? What if I will? The advice of others is appreciated but there is such a thing as overkill. So whether I'll be okay or not is up to me, and I will decide when I've reached that point. But for right now, I'm not. I'm sad, I'm upset.

God, there are times when I understand completely, it makes perfect sense to me. Everything falls into place, I see the light at the end of the tunnel. And then there are those times when I shake my head and say "This makes absolutely no sense at all! What happened? In what universe did I agree to this? How are either one of us happier with things put this way?" We sat in the floor holding each other, crying. You kept saying you should go and yet neither one of us could stand for you to get up and walk out the door. What part of that says "Yes this was the right decision."? "There are things that need to be worked out." "You need space, time to think apart." is what keeps being said. But that doesn't really make sense either. We were more comfortable and at home with each other than most people who have been together for years.

There is a piece of me missing now. Dramatic? Yes. And I am not a dramatic person, I tend to keep my distance from the dramatic. But I feel as though something has been taken from me and I can't find it. Something will happen during my day, and I'll want to tell him. Oh wait, but I can't. I'll think of a memory we made together and it feels like someone hit me in the stomach. I thought it was getting better, really I did. But instead I was just becoming numb to certain thoughts and so now I'm coming up with new ones and they hurt just as much. I'll hear a song he sang and it hurts. I'll see a motorcycle and it hurts. I'll drive down a certain street, or pass a certain restaurant, or I'll think of something he said or did.

I keep trying to control forces that are not mine to control. I keep thinking if I say or do something then maybe it'll change something. But then I have nasty little thoughts like "Has he stopped loving me? Oh God, what if he has? What if we're really over, what if we're really never going to be together again." And I know I can't change it, I know there's nothing I can do. I'm not trusting him. Which might have been part of my problem all along, not trusting him as much as I should have, as much as he deserved.

And so, if all I'm left with is the memories of what we had and the promise of what could be a great friendship then I should count myself lucky. I should count myself lucky for a lot of things. But right now, I'm sad. I miss him. I miss him so much it hurts like a constant toothache. I can't sleep yet, there's a big empty spot in my bed where he should be. And so I miss him, and I'll keep missing him for a while.

Stop telling me I'll be okay.

Meg