Mourning the living

I still miss her & think of her almost every single day. We haven’t spoken since November & it was just an email. A hateful, poisonous email…

I don’t want to miss her. I wish that I didn’t. I wish that I had control over it. I keep practicing forgetting and I’m gonna keep at it until I don’t miss her anymore. I’m simultaneously mourning her & the life that we were supposed to have together accompanied by the deaths of my mother, my sister, & my freedom. It all gets so heavy sometimes…

She did me wrong. She hurt me. She left me in a lurch and even after, I offered kindness because I wanted to maintain her friendship. And she spit in my face.

How could I still miss someone who said so many horrible things to and about me?

Because I still miss my friend. I miss her opinions and takes. I miss her stories. I miss her dog. I miss her Spotify playlists. I miss cooking for her and knowing that she’s well. I miss her audiobooks & suggestions. I miss the lovers that we used to be together and how vulnerable and tender we were. I miss her trinkets and tiny thoughtful things that made me know her more. I miss her choosing me. I miss how it felt to be loved by her.

And at the same time, I was so unhappy in our relationship by the time she left.

I feel like all of the practice that I had romanticizing my life as a form of survival in my childhood bleeds into other aspects. The way that I had to ignore my mother’s dangerous tendencies turned into my ignoring and excusing poor behavior and treatment by partners who are supposed to love me.

I let things slide far too many times. And I need to accept that I deserve better. The universe won’t allow me to settle for less.