I need to write more. It’s not easy for me to talk to people, to admit weakness, to let someone in on such a deep, personal level. So for the most part, I don’t.
I don’t talk to people about the thoughts that run through this mind of mine, all the time.
I don’t talk to people about the fact that lately, when I close my eyes, all I see is Brandon, that night I found him, dead; I see his empty eyes, I see his blood, I hear him take his final breath. It haunts me.
I don’t talk to people about the deep, painful regrets I have.
I don’t talk to people about the guilt that weighs on me; the guilt that catches my breath, the guilt that makes me feel like a horrible person, the guilt that makes me feel like I have failed Brandon, that he deserved better.
Some days, a lot more of them than there used to be, I feel on a constant verge of tears. Some days all I truly want to do is stay in bed and cry, to crawl back into the black hole I used to live in during the beginning months. But I don’t. I push these thoughts, regrets, guilt, sadness down, down, down. I choose to not acknowledge it, I choose to ignore it and to go on with my days like usual. To my own surprise, I am able to do it. I can ignore these emotions.
Unfortunately, I’m afraid that soon, very soon, these walls I’ve built around myself to keep these feeling away are going to crumble. So, since I am unable to talk to people, the only solution I have come up with is to write more. I used to use this “diary” of mine as a therapy tool, it helped me survive, to work through complex emotions, and lord knows, I think I need that therapy again.