i should be sleeping. instead i started writing more of the story of my love. i just recently wrote through the beginnings of our relationship. i don't know if i want to write anymore. my memory isn't serving me very well and that cuts the knife pretty deep. i can't recall a lot of the middle part of our story, and that's the part i want to remember the most. the beginning comes easily to me because i've rehearsed it so much, but the end seems to eclipse everything else. the end really isn't about us anymore, because i wasn't around. instead it's about me, my fickle heart, and my own personal adventures. that's not what i want. i want us, not me.
i was told again tonight that time heals. it made me grit my teeth. i know there has to be truth in that, but it means that i can't just suck it up and bulldoze through it. it means that even when i think i'm okay, pain can come and sucker punch me at anytime. i think i'm going to start taking an over-sized robotic teddy bear with me where ever i go and it's going to have a button i can press that will hug me whenever i'm sad. okay, so that's a little pathetic, but i still think it would be nice. i don't even like teddy bears. maybe i could have a big stuffed puma or lion or rhino instead. thankfully most everywhere i go i have people who are more than willing to wrap me up in their arms. i suppose that's far better than any robotic stuffed animal.
i'm going to bed. maybe i'll dream about my love tonight.
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