Good things fall apart.
Overthinking's got me drinking messing with my head…
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As i reflect where I’ve been over the years, October has always been a month that gets me in the feels. If I’m being honest, I’ve never really been the same. A part of me […] that October night. I’ve never really shared the full details of that night and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t affected by it. To be honest, I’ve been telling myself a narrative for so long I can’t be certain what’s really true anymore. Seven years later—and am I really that much better off? But that’s not really what I want to talk about tonight. That’s a story for another night.
To get back on topic, there was a story that I wanted to write. It was going to be called, “A Year’s Perspective: Revisited” As a call back to A Year's Perspective while touching on the same themes as this New Year, Same Feel. I wanted to talk about how a year ago, I was homeless. Living out of my jeep, and eating expired peanut butter as a form of substance . A year before that I was heart broken; drudging endlessly in the void, or how I prefer to describe it, I saw grey where color once lived. I was following a line of thought that took me to a very dark place. A year before that I thought I was happy. I thought I finally was able to overcome this. A year before that, I found myself in therapy. Two years before that, I never would have thought I would be in therapy, in fact, it would have been, at the time, the equivalent of the worst. possible. thing. imaginable.
Today, I’m sitting in my bed, in a house, there’s food in the cupboards, and yet there’s still a familiar feeling that echoes throughout the years. I’ve tried to drown it out through various methods and means…
It’s funny, I keep drifting back this topic: October. The tenth month of the year, thirty-one days. I always find a way to come back to you. As I can see there is no avoiding it now, The original topic of this story seems to be out the window. It was originally suppose to be a light-hearted reflection of the years past. The good times that I’ve had. A story that provided anecdotes of the bygone years, to where the reader could really relate and take the overall message to heart: Wherever you are, there you are. Be here now. Be present, and enjoy the connections that you make, especially the ones that seem so effortless. Cherish them. Hold them close and let them know how important they are to you. Let them know how you feel. Because one day they will cease to exist and fade away. You’ll find yourself wondering why you ever took them for granted. Why you didn’t say what you wanted to say, but was too afraid. ‘Cause let’s be honest, tomorrow isn’t guaranteed. The construct of time goes on, people change, and sometimes we fall away from those who were once so close to us. ‘Cause I’ll be honest with you: most people mess up something good, by looking for something better, just to end up with something worse. And I’ve come to learn that there is nothing more violent than the words left unsaid.
We’re all stories in the end. Just make it a good one. Take care, be authentic. Because sometimes how things happen hurts more than why they happened. And remember, at some point, you just have to let go of what you thought should happen and live in what is happening.