I'm not used to editing as I type, but using an android phone to type...there's really no other option. My fat fingers are way too big to hit these tiny virtual keys accurately, and using swype comes up with some pretty funky predictive text. Hopefully I'll get better at it, though, because I miss keeping track of things this way.
When I sit down, the same old distractions and mental/emotional blocks jump up. But there are things I find myself dwelling on lately that need to be gotten out of my head. Random things that don't matter in the present.
Like the time Matt's voicemail glitched and started playing his saved messages while I was trying to leave him a new one. I got to hear Jimmy suggesting they go see a movie and what was playing when. Innocent enough, but he finished up with "i miss you". I didn't know who to talk to, so I called Dawn. She talked to me for probably fifteen or twenty minutes before passing the phone off to her roommate, Jeremy...who I found out later is the one who gave him crabs. We went back and forth a few times and I felt better at the end of it. I figured something was going on between Matt and Jimmy...i just wanted to be told the truth at this point, instead of being told that nothing was happening. After everything was said and done between us a few months later, I'd agreed to meet him at some point because he had a few things to get off of his chest. He told me then that he was sitting there at Dawn's apartment that night I'd called...with Jimmy.
I have no idea why I even started thinking about that. Something about cell phones and voicemail, I think. It just spiraled down to that particular memory and suddenly I could feel everything I felt the night I heard the message as well as everything I felt when I found out how many people were lying to me to protect him. I remember hating being someone who had lied at some point to protect him as well. I was embarrassed to have called for help as he was being harbored by the very people I was seeking support from. How disgusting I felt for knowing what I knew about jeremy. How disappointed I was for having to feel the way I felt at the hands of people I thought I loved and trusted.
But that was years ago and I'd made the appropriate forgivenesses in my head and heart. None of it matters today, but those emotions were just as raw and real.
And this is just one of many plaguing thoughts lately. The memory of these scars...that don't feel so much like memories.
So...write I will.
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