It feels so liberating to finally do something that is just for me and just because I want it.

In breaking free from you, I grew to realise how great we can be as an entity in this world. Not any other parallel universes, but this.

Suicide is just a moment. This is how she described it to me. For just a moment, it doesn’t matter that you’ve got people who love you and the sun is shining and there’s a movie coming out this weekend that you’ve been dying to see. It hits you all of a sudden that nothing is ever going to be okay, ever, and you kind of dare yourself. You pick up a knife and press it gently to your skin, you look out a nineteenth-story window and you think, I could just do it. I could just do it. And most of the time, you look at the height and you get scared, or you think about the poor people on the sidewalk below - what if there are kids coming home from school and they have to spend the rest of their lives trying to forget this terrible thing you’re going to make them see? And the moment’s over. You think about how sad it would’ve been if you never got to see that movie, and you look at your dog and wonder who would’ve taken care of her if you had gone. And you go back to normal. But you keep it there in your mind. Even if you never take yourself up on it, it gives you a kind of comfort to know that the day is yours to choose. You tuck it away in your brain like sour candy tucked in your cheek, and the puckering memory it leaves behind, the rough pleasure of running your tongue over its strange terrain, is exactly the same. The day was hers to choose, and perhaps in that treetop moment when she looked down and saw the yard, the world, her life, spread out below her, perhaps she chose to plunge toward it headlong. Perhaps she saw before her a lifetime of walking on the ruined earth and chose instead a single moment in the air.

---

Yes. Yes. Yes.

What is the function of "I miss you"? To let someone know that she's on your mind and that you wish she could be by your side? Essentially it is extremely self-serving because all you're looking for is reciprocity, as if it should make you feel better that the person you are pining for is longing for you too.

What happens when "I miss you" is met with a negative or null response?

How do you say "I miss you" to someone who is not the person she is anymore?

I'm in a familiar place now.

I'm in a better place.

than you at least.

I cannot relate to the phenomena of people drifting apart, people upping and leaving, or people losing people, because I always keep people at arm's length, save for a few with whom I am practically fused such that they are not people anymore.

This is why I have trouble losing you.

I get access to you in lapses. It's not easy to piece everything up together so you lose parts of your body sometimes. I don't have a temporal understanding of you so I go back and forth, which throws something that used to be so familiar, like your voice, into the distance, and everything becomes so twirly whirly, which is exactly what space-time looks like, which for obvious reasons reminds me of you, and I start to picture you dancing in a worm-like trance, which is probably what losing someone is about.

Sadness feels like gravity; a dead weight in my heart pulling me downwards towards some place invisible. The harder I try to displace myself from it, the stronger the drag force is. I feel like I'm walking around holding a gallon of water in my palms, except that my palms are my body, overflowing, overflowing, overflowing. Sadness empties me out but pulls me down such that I am stretched beyond the laws of physics and I'm about to break.

Never in my life have I been afraid of sleeping. Afraid, as in the night instills a sense of fear, and my previously welcoming bed evokes a frightening sense of loss. Maybe it's a good thing because I actually rather do work than to even think about the implications of laying in bed, which is an extremely strange experience. I feel like maybe I don't exist sometimes, caught in between this dreary and dreamy state. But this cultural analysis paper exists, and I can't seem to do it because I am just not intelligent enough, which is also another experience that is extremely strange. I feel like I need to do this paper drunk. The passing of time doesn't make sense anymore because I am confused by the concepts of day and night, and also because I am now without an anchor.

You existed as long as the song was sung
I couldn't help but collide into the sounds
Curious with excitement about what there is to come
You breathed life into me.

Not long after I was thrown into confusion
Your words made me sink to the bottom
As if the song had gone through its full motion
You sucked life out of me.

I wanted to swim away and I knew how
But how could I leave the water that saved me
from my everything that was never becoming
A few life buoys went missing.

My skin has evolved into a breath-sucking monster
That would not let me escape the ocean
So I pray that the rain of what could never be
Come down as hard as it can caution.

It's such a pity that happy emotions don't last long enough for me to express them in words. All I've got are cliched unpleasantries.

"When you date someone it's like you're taking one long course in who that person is, then when you break up all that stuff becomes useless. It's the emotional equivalent of an English degree."