Howl

Once upon a time, there was this girl…

It’s time for me to deal with this. I haven’t been able to write since May. You know what that does to the progress of my book? Yeah. It’s bad. I’ve figured out that shutting down the parts of me that remember also disables the part of me that creates. It’s as though it all comes from the same place. I guess I didn’t know that about myself.

I’ve talked before about separating aspects of oneself from each other. Years ago, I did it. Then I scoffed at it. Recently I did it again. I’m finally coming to my senses again. Trying to be only part of who I am was debilitating. It’s an engine with no transmission. More than that: I am greater than the sum of my parts.

Megan is gone. Possibly for good. I still have her Hard Rock Café glasses. I’ll keep them safe. I may even use them. I’ve never even opened the box, so they have no emotional component for me. The glasses are besides the point. She did a lot of good things for me. For starters, she showed me that maybe I was actually capable of loving. I know I can love, and what I would do for someone I love. Before her, I had given that up for dead. She reminded me what it was to be alive instead of merely existing. That was a thorny gift; I know I’m basically just existing right now. She also showed me a darker side of myself. I know that wasn’t ever her intent, but I know that beast is within me. I’m deeply sorry for that. If she were ever to speak to me again, I’d ask her forgiveness. I have a single unhappy memory from my time with her, and it’s the last time I ever saw her. I almost killed myself that night because our story had the worst ending I could imagine. I hope she remembers all the wonderful times we had. Maybe those bright memories will outshine that one awful moment. After all, memory is the key.

I’ll always love her, but it’s time to let go. She made me a man of steel, but I can’t be her man of steel anymore. I ask her forgiveness, but it’s time to work on forgiving myself. I’ve never been good at that, but I never bet against myself.

I’ve been working on rebuilding my life since this personal cataclysm. I have a couple of jobs now. I’ve recognized the harm that the heroic amount of drinking is doing to me, and I’ve reined it in. I’m eating right again. I’m getting exercise. I’m allowing myself to feel again. I wouldn’t say that I’m doing well, but I am doing better. I’m going to start writing again. It’s going to hurt.