Spilling my guts out May 27, 2024

  

It feels weird

I’ve spent the last two years spilling my guts out about someone I have not seen in over a decade and am not likely to ever seen again.

There is no communication, no texts, no emails, no phone calls, no comments on my blog or my Facebook page. So, I have no clue as to what this person thinks about my journal from back then.

While I know she reads some of it, maybe all of it, I don’t know who else is. I don’t know if my comments from a decade ago and my assumptions are only pissing her off all the more, or if she wants me to cease.

This is a bigger vacuum than back in the day when I thought I could detect a comment or two installed in her poetry (this may be pure fantasy) and believed we had some poetic conversation – not all positive, but not all negative either.

I’m coming to a point in posting old journals where I had intended to stop, at that point a decade ago when I last saw her.

I didn’t stop writing about her after her departure, and some of the writing even as late as 2017 still alluded to her in some fashion.

All this is very difficult, much more of an emotional burden than when I started posting these journals, since typing them in and posting them makes me relive many of those scenes, the good, the bad, and the ugly, the intensity of feelings I had stirred up again as I relive some of the most difficult times of my life.

I’m under no illusion here.

I expect to hear nothing from her, this way or that, I certainly know I will never see her again, and most likely will never hear from her in any capacity (I miss the poems most) and so I post in much the way people send out messages in a bottle, perfectly aware there will never be a response.

I want to stop posting because I find myself with strong feelings again, stirred up, and unrequited. On the other hand, I want to get it all out of my system, knowing she is reading some of how I felt back then, explaining my side of what was an ugly situation, and yet a situation not without some tenderness I still feel.

I also do not know who else is reading this stuff. I make no effort to advertise it. But my site gets hit regularly, and it is possible more people are looking at it than just her. Who they are, I’ve no clue. What they think is an even bigger mystery.

I would take the whole thing down again in a heart beat if she asked, even through some convoluted messaging, or keep going, if she wanted them.

Ultimately, I’m on my own, to choose to go on our not, and that’s an extremely scary place to be, floating in limbo, not knowing how my feelings then are being received today, and if there is any merit in any of this.

I know I won’t hear anything indicating this preference or that. The only message comes from those hits to my blog, of someone reading it. Perhaps this is a form of communication, but I would really like something a little less convoluted, when I know that won’t happen any time soon.

A minimum source of information (not communication) comes from her videos, which she posts almost as regularly as she used to post poetry a decade ago. Usually, these are happy videos, as she makes progress, such as she did last week. But this week she hurt herself, a horrible end to what appears to be a really good lesson. The video images are very powerful, showing her in pain, and the music is very much keeping with the mini tragedy, real life events that make these videos special.

 

 2024 journal menu


email to Al Sullivan

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Dumb and dumber on Columbia U April 18, 2024

Journal 2024

To go or stop that is the question April 24, 2024