Apparently I also had a Diary Entry (Clearing Drafts (:)

Recently, I had been realising a few things about myself. A friend of mine once told me that I lack a part of the hard drive every human is built with. Back then, he said that about romantic love, because as much as I spoke about love, they never found me in love. It wasn't a lone case. Over the course of my short life, many a friend of mine have shared their concerns as to something being different about me. How I don't function the way normal people do. It all made me believe I was beyond the trivialities, that I had already mastered how to be the zenith of peace and contentment. But again, I knew I was missing something. I knew I was wrong.

It was never that I was beyond any of these emotions. I had just convinced myself that feeling any of this wouldn't alter the tragic trajectory of my life. That I don't deserve, or that I was better off not giving in to hope, though I always professed about the same. But many places where I used to feel something's which dissipated soon into nothing's, recently, the dissolution has started leaving more residue than ever before. It used to linger like a clogged sinkhole, always bothering the regular flow of the sewage. But just like the domestic chaos, time had decayed and decomposed some of the sewage that lingered in the cracks and crevices of my heart. And the drain is returning back to a normal, and I have dishes to clean again, and the frustration and mundanity of a clog is slowly fading away. My futile attempts at clearing the drain has finally started showing results that could actually lead to something.

This morning, I missed Bill. I was never one to be excited for birthdays. I barely looked forward to them. But when I met Bill a couple years ago, he went on an effort to create a whole post, a massive tag line, comparing the time zones and weeks of waiting just to put up a few heartfelt words he was willing to repeat to me over and over again. I have no idea how many times I've read that post over the last few years. I couldn't bear to read it this morning. Part of me wanted to, but the grief within me was scared how it would affect me. I couldn't risk the drain to be clogged again too soon, I have years worth of problems to deal with while I still can. Of the past, the present and the future.