I don't know.
I got her back. Well, I never lost her, except for in my damaged head. She's just as sane as always and reminded me that what happened wasn't an unforgivable crime. It felt good. I don't understand how she's so patient.
He decided to fuck off forever. She was very clear on the fact that what has happened isn't my fault and that he's not being himself, which I deeply appreciate her for. I kept living in the big, messy land of "What If's" the entire night last night. What if it is my fault? What if I am a covert abuser without realizing? What if I'm gaslighting him to absolve myself from responsibility? What if I'm a deeply twisted freak of nature who keeps hurting everyone around me? What if I lied automatically? Thank you, OCD. Much appreciated.
I don't know how to feel. I don't feel anything. Which I tend to not do during situations like this. I'm aware it makes me come off as callous, but it's because I deep down feel too much for me to handle. I don't want to know what I'm feeling behind this sticky, feverish, slightly hypomanic veil.
I woke up to Something Else. Something unknown, uncertain. He's been an important part of my life for two years, more or less a daily part of it. I loved our hour-long discussions, loved seeing him happy and succeed, loved hearing his voice, laughing with him, playing games with him. Most of all I loved being given the opportunity to bond with and grow to trust the most unexpected person ever; a three years younger man who one day randomly asked me if I had heard of Jordan Peterson. He taught me a lot, just by being himself. In the end he felt more like a little brother to me. He often started our conversations with "brother".
We were a gang. We had something together, something ineffable. One of the fundamental building stones of human nature that cannot be concretisized. Something that just worked. For a couple of months, it felt as if we were exactly where we were supposed to be. I've only experienced that one other time. Now there's just the two of us left. There's still L and K of course and while their prescence is a comfort, it's not the same. They're in the background.
Can't help but feeling that I'm being punished for my utter vanity. A year ago I had everything. I really thought there was a light in the end of the 30 year long tunnel. I can't help but feeling as if I went against the laws of the Universe, that I'm not supposed to be at ease. I flew too close to the sun and now I'm being scorched.
This past year has steadily taken so many things that matters away from me. My healing, my belonging, my sense of safety, my friends, my grandfather, my independence. Now it's taken him too. It sort of felt expected. I can't help but thinking about what or who is taken next. I don't trust the Universe anymore.