nighttime resurrects fault lines

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i didn't really think of it as dishonesty so much as it was motivated by terror. i was so fucking scared all the time. i really did not have any idea how to cope with death and i don't think i do now i don't think i learned anything i think it just made me worse in new and uninteresting ways

coming up on two years and i really thought afterwards that i had to say the exact right thing in every situation forever afterwards to get the best possible ending for everyone. not immediately afterwards but a few months after i started being hyperaware of everything i ever said in conversation to people i loved and looking at everything like it was dialogue options in a game where i had to pick the right one because i was so scared of being in another situation where i felt like i said the wrong thing and it was the last thing i said to someone. it has taken me this long to start breaking out of it but i still just feel sick in the chest all the time like a pale bile yellow cord taut over the whole thing. also i discovered that if you can only do it 70% of the time people will think youre a fucking freak for the 30% and also people will pick up on you being dishonest. it rewired my brain in so many awful ways that im still trying to get over while also trying to have some kind of remembrance. after putting it off for ages after i moved i finally put her memorial photo back on my wall and it felt right but for a while i couldn't even bear to look