Wishing for a well weekend

I wonder what you'll be doing from tomorrow to Monday. I'm still confused as to why you get Friday off, but it isn't a complaint. I wonder what you'll be doing. The obvious is playing videogames and watching YouTube videos. But which videogames, and which videos? It's not like I've just now started to care about these things. I've always cared to know a bit every time I casually messaged you and asked what you were doing. It's kind of unbelievable how much knowing those things actually makes me happy.

And, of course, it's Valentine's weekend. If we were currently together, we'd have dinner together on Valentine's Day. I'd tell you that I discovered a different Boudin bakery than our usual, and how I want to check that out. But you'd insist on going to the Old Spaghetti factory. And, after all that we've been through, I'd oblige. I did get money the past week, so gas and tab would be something I could easily afford. Since the glasses we got on our first anniversary were shattered through time, we'd get some cream sodas and keep the cups to replace them at your house. I have the second pair that we got still at my house, untouched.

Where else would we go, now that I'm so eager to take you places? Well, right after our dinner I'm sure you'd go to bed, you sleepy, silly fox. But we've got a whole weekend to enjoy ourselves, so where would we go? We could go hiking, just you and me. Mission Trails or Torrey Pines, which would you like to walk? We could have a picnic somewhere nice and green. Speaking of green, I'd just avoid making a salad with lettuce altogether. We have some other leaves growing in my back yard that I think you would be less picky about. We could visit Balboa Park during the day to check out museums and, ah yes, you wanted to go into the botanical garden! I honestly only have faint memories of being in that garden. I would love to make new memories there with you.

I would spend as much time with you as I could. I understand that you'd like to spend time alone with her, if she were available, and I would give you that. For the rest of the weekend, you would have me close to you. But, it seems that we'll be spending the weekend without each other. I'll just remember that, last I saw, you still had my first Valentine's gift to you on your desk: the glass teddy bear inside the heart-shaped box. I'll smile, and I want you to have a lovely weekend.

Wounds

I've been a bit of a jerk to the people around me. I think I've been letting my indifference to people combine with my frustration. The way I'm acting now kind of reminds me of the way I was throughout elementary and middle school. So, what is it? Now that I've been broken, is it my true self that's showing? Or is this some sort of scab that protects my wound while I heal back into the person I became? I feel like it's the latter; my true self was the person who showed you everything. Not someone who was out to get others, but someone who was deeply hurt with self-inflicted lies as wounds.

If the emotional and psychological wounds could manifest on my body, what would they look like? Would they be bruises, bone fractures, lashes, stabs? Let's start with the lies I made myself believe. I think an appropriate manifestation for those lies would be bleeding out of my mouth. I feel empty when I make those lies, after all, and they flow up from my gut and out through my mouth. The pain of knowing that there is someone else who you share a love with but that she can't love me? I'll assign that to bruises swelling under much of my skin. The guilt of thinking about you when you refuse to acknowledge me is like a pointed rod stabbed into my lung, leaving my breath shallow and discouraged.

Behind every hateful, insensitive, and terrible person is a wound that has not healed. If you saw me with those wounds, I'm sure you'd be scared out of your wits. Actually, you were scared out of your wits when I revealed what I was dealing with. So I wonder whether you would have been better off experiencing my hurt as you did, or seeing it on my body? I think that, had you seen me with physical wounds, it would have been more obvious that abandoning me is not the correct course of action. You would have probably taken me to a hospital and stayed by my side as much as you could. Maybe you're gone because you can't see how my state deteriorates without you, and how I heal when I feel that I'm with you.