SINCE I LEFT YOU.

HI. NO, I CAN’T BELIEVE I’M CALLING YOU BACK FROM THE DEAD LIKE THIS EITHER. I’M TRYING. I’M TRYING REALLY HARD. I WANT TO SAIL DOWN THE CORRIDORS AND YELL BUT THAT WOULD FEEL LIKE RIPPING MY THROAT OUT FOR ALL OF ETERNITY, AND I AM SO MUCH SINKING IN ALL THIS SYMBOLISM.

Hi. Am I allowed to be free here? Whatever it is keeps eluding me. Getting closer doesn’t help. Erasing all the edges doesn’t help. There’s these rings and these rings and these rings around my brain. I’ve always been still, I can’t take it anymore, I can’t, I’d rather die, I’d rather die, I’d die, I’d die, now, I’d die.

Hi,

It looks like you’re doing well. Good, I’m happy for you. You know, I’ve never really been happy for myself because I don’t feel like I’ve gone anywhere. Maybe I should leave next time. If I stay, I’ll never change.

I’ve been thinking about you because we’re in the same city and because I feel like we used to be something to each other and I find myself wanting to talk to you but I know I can’t.

I don’t blame you, if I was confronted with someone like me, I think I’d DIE, I COULD JUST DIE.

I miss you. I don’t know what it is, but being here has made me feel like I did when we were still in each other’s worlds, and

I never got any real closure, I just kind of covered it with who I became and it’s a little

Difficult to still be that person for some reason.

And I liked her. And if I can’t be her anymore, then

I can’t do any of the things she did, then

I’m not sure how this is going to work, and

Shut up, everything’s fine.

Remember that thing I told you, about feeling like my head is underwater? That’s what this is really about.

HI. YOU’RE MAKING ME FEEL ALL SENTIMENTAL, BUT IT’S NOT FOR YOU. IT’S FOR ME.

I’m happy you’re doing well. I’m not right now. But it’s okay. When have I ever, really? Really? Really? Really? YOU’RE WHITE AS A SHEET.

~Kasia

 

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purely psychosomatic.

I couldn’t do it. I’m back home. I think I might even stay another night. It’s bizarre, how I never particularly felt like this was even my home until I left it and I came back, how this is the only place I can really be in my own bed without worrying that anyone else can see me, where I am surrounded by so much quiet that I can actually separate myself from myself, the animal mind from the conscious, fear from logic.

I’m running, I guess. I’ve quelled myself a little, kept whatever I was feeling yesterday at bay, but I don’t want to go back.

At least I didn’t, but now I’ve been thinking that I should. And I shouldn’t stop. And I should take back whatever is plaguing me, because it isn’t me. This isn’t what I asked of myself and I’ll be damned if I let it wear my face.

~Kasia