Iâm thinking about my friend who passed away today... When we met there was an unspoken thing of understanding... Some sort of vibration I knew in myself I could feel in him... We never talked about it. I would hear stories from him or his friends about how his family was really up tight and mean to him.... It kinda made me feel reconfirmed and understood in our vibration on this planet... He was unlike any other... And when he left he did it on his own... And it was so sad and shocking at the time to hear but we knew it all along... I just thought it would be closer to 27 or later... And man it hurt. I never took the wall down I had to get to know him better... And I should have...
I try to remember this about myself when other people seems so far away... And I mean even Iâm so far away... It seems like Iâm getting a little more lost in the distance as time keeps going... And I wonder about him... The way he did it. He had so much pain... His parents really fucking hurt him... I donât know if he could live his life sober, and even then it was catching up to him and I think the drugs didnât work anymore.... I feel the same way with my habits...Â
I told myself after my traumatic experience that I would never fuck with Xanax again... Never have I been so tempted... No ones here to mess with me now... But what if it triggers back all my memories and Iâm all alone for that? Its been a decade since Iâve had a taste of K but thats even more tempting... What tempts me the most is the sweet old habit of a razor blade..... That was a habit I was certain could never stop. Granted Iâve replaced one self harming behavior for another.... It feels like in a time like this playing with my skin is all I have....Â
The biggest reason why I havenât let myself seek these methods of easing pain is simply because I do not trust myself....I do not trust myself to have a gun in the house. If I did Iâd be dead by now... And with this lock down having blades or heavy drugs easy to OD on while mixing with alcohol is a cocktail for disaster.... And I have this slight control to not get these things.... But it is on an edge. The same edge I lean on that makes hanging my neck in the closet with a belt feel like blossoming roses in my heart....
The girl that wants to be better and keep living is trying very very hard to hold control and not go to these dark places. The impulsivity in me has improved but she still lives and breathes fire.... I still have to tame her... And sheâs strong just as shes ever been.... The one holding her back is learning to be stronger..... But sometimes that girl just gives up... Sometimes that girl disappears. I cant hear her fighting at all.... I just hear this siren calling me to the deep. My heart fills with a sense of belonging to the dead and I remember that life is not real.Â
I think about my friend.... I wonder... Would he take it back? Was it all really said and done? So many folks miss him.... And I think he misses those folks.... But something inside him couldnât live here anymore... And sometimes I feel that same thing hiding inside me... I really donât know if he would want to stay here... Maybe just for one day. Or a week... I donât know... All I know is if I did it I wish I could see him.
