Bared

History repeats itself, self history. I’m turning 21 soon, and I’ve been avoiding thinking about it much. I always do in the rush of Halloween, it being so close. So do other people. That doesn’t matter right now. Maybe next week it will.

A friend of mine actually recommended I write about this, I thought it ridiculous at first. Now it’s past the date I wanted to post it and I’m out of ideas. I might as well go on about something that’s been in my head lately.

I was listening to a song that reminded of someone from several years ago. I don’t let go of things you see, not really. I’ll act like I’m over it but I’m still holding on. More to the idea than the person themselves. Of that time, of who I was, of the simplicity, or of things finally going right. Because I know if I think about it too much, if I begin to rationalize what happened the memory will fall apart. I know I mean nothing to the people I didn’t have the courage to kiss, and even less to the ones that I did. The fact that it’s only happened under the influence of alcohol may have something to do with it. A part of me still insists I haven’t had my first kiss. The one that makes you drunk when sober, not the other way around.

Now I’m forcing a new person into the song, this other person’s song. It feels defiling. They each got their own playlists, mixing them would be unthinkable. Except that now maybe I’m beginning to see a connection. A tenuous one based on a lot of circumstance, but it’s still there. I’m trying to figure out why. I keep putting myself in these situations that will inevitably explode, or implode. I’m still not sure about which. I’m trying to figure out why. Maybe it’s only these situations that I know how to navigate so it’s the only ones that develop. Or maybe it’s shit luck. That somehow seems more depressing than the other options. More pitiful.

I fear the day these songs lose their punch. The day they come on on shuffle and I don’t notice them until they’re halfway through. It’s the safest way to feel, through this songs. I feel much more through them than I did during what they remind me of. That might go back to the alcohol thing. I’m afraid that otherwise, it would be too much to handle. But I’m also terrified of not feeling anything someday, of that numbness. I’ve been there and going back isn’t an option. Sometimes I feel like I actually can’t physically handle it, feeling that much. There’s a shred of proof to that. I’ll share that story someday, I think you’ll enjoy it. 

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