Forever in me

I know that you no longer see forever in me

I know that you no longer see forever in me

A life forming again

Since my little freakout a few weeks ago about normalcy, I've bounced back better. I'm trying to get out and do more things that, well, I would do, as I would do them. I've got plans for next weekend to meet up with friends. I'm wearing clothes that I wanna wear, in part thanks to fitting into old jeans and in part thanks to buying fabulous tees. I'm doing some roleplay, keeping my heart open. Things feel pretty good.

There's this nagging feeling of somberness that come into my consciousness sometimes. I don't think I need to be afraid that it means something, though. This time around, I'll simply acknowledge it. Yeah, I'm not perfectly okay. I'll tell someone about it, otherwise I've got Tell Her Before I Die to talk about it. It's not something that's necessary to work around, though. I don't really have to go out of my way and take action in regards to that feeling. Just this paragraph is enough for today.

I'm starting to watch YouTube videos again. And one of our favorite YouTubers has started posting again, since last week. Daily videos, 20 minutes each, too! I honestly didn't expect that, so I've missed a lot of content now. That YouTuber personally welcomed me back to the channel when I commented. That fanbase feels kinda homely, you know? I think participating more over there could do me some good.

I'm trying my best not to make the same mistakes I made when we broke up. First and foremost, I'm not working against my feelings for you. There's no elation of, "Hey, I'm single, so now I can do whatever I want!" I'm not doing things to fill in a hole. This time, I'm working with my feelings. I'm building myself back up for when you come back. In addition, I'm not doing these things to distract myself from you, like I did when my depression was deepest. I'm actually doing something now, really working for tomorrow.

And, of course, there's that person that I'm interested in. On top of the schedule that's come together for me, I'm now trying to put effort toward that relationship. This person is as clingy as you, I swear, which is a thing that I admire. I don't know how clingy you'll still be during the time we're just friends again, but I'm sure being with this person will be good repreparation. Thing is, we haven't officially agreed on an elevated relationship status. You could call what we have right now a friendship with obvious mutual attraction. If we do decide to be partners, I imagine this person will become even clingier?

Dunno, I'll have to wait and see. That stands true for many things.

Looking for love

I decided a while ago to get better for when I see you again. Since I've gotten this far, I'm trying to find another partner. The person I'm interested in now isn't somebody that you know. Well, I kind of hope that you don't know this person. Maybe a streak of only two people isn't enough to confirm it, but you seem to ruin my advances. Anyway, like I said, my life is pretty stable so I'm considering the next goal: a healthy relationship.

There's one obvious problem: I still love you. It's a love that doesn't fade. You're a memory that can't be forgotten. That should be a turnoff for anyone checking me out. There's quite a few pages of discouragement that Tell Her Before I Die has to offer. But I've got attractive and admirable qualities, and I know someone could love them more than my hopeless attachment can deter. It's happened before, actually.

Honestly, what's kept me from giving my heart to others has been my concern for them. Gaping crevices were carved into my heart, the edges of each laceration being brutally sharp; I couldn't bring myself to let it cut into the palms of someone trying to hold it. I was too damaged to let myself be loved like that. However, I think those edges have softened and the gorges have closed considerably. As before, my love for one person doesn't diminish my love for another. So, now that I've healed this much, even though I love you so much, I can find love in someone else. Especially who's actually there for me.

It'd be the best for both of us if someone replaced you, but I'm not expecting that. And whoever I'm with isn't a filler, either. You've taught me that any romantic relationship should be treated as between only two people. My feelings for you aren't going to have anything to do with my feelings for anyone else. My feelings for anyone else aren't going to have anything to do with you. All those feelings will be there, though.

I won't stop writing to you. There's so many thoughts that I'll continue to want you to know. I don't know whether to feel sorry for someone who still wants me with all of that, or to simply be very grateful. I think I'll be selfish and grateful. I need a bit more selfishness. A new love would be nice.