I felt so much today, and I suddenly felt like I had to write it out. I don't know why, but it's the kind of thing you always mean to do and don't, so I did.
I went to the dentist, today. I had to get my first fillings. I've never, until now, had any dental or orthodontic work, along with no overnights in hospital, nosebleeds, broken bones or sprains or faints. This is a failure, or it feels like one. I've never had any kind of anaesthetic, either, and I don't know what I expected but it was pure, chilled, rigor mortis. I felt that I was dying in small pieces.
We talked about her, me and her current love and the very first. We told each other how she'd cancelled today, how she's been pushing him away, how she used to push me away with each new friend or boyfriend or girlfriend, until they fell out and she'd remember me. How she assumes you'll be there for her when she's done. How you are. I sympathised and we vented and I thought, hey, this has to be theraputic, right? Talking about things you've bottled up is a good thing, right?
I think I realised I'm not over her, really. And I'm angry, because I was so relieved when I thought that I realised I was. How long has it even been since she last slept in the same room as me? I genuinely couldn't even guess. I'd probably estimate too recently out of wishful thinking, you know.
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