T.M.I 2

I have a problem with permanance.

Which means I don’t do well with the changing of things.

Which is why I don’t like haircuts.

Even small changes like that.

Or maybe I don’t like the in between time when changes are happening.

The time between changes.

I hate feeling like nothing ever stays the same.

Why would anyone ever want to live differently?

I love a lot things right now.

And yet a lot of things will leave me one day.

And that’s the issue.

If it were up to me, everything would be shrunken down and put into snow globes with no snow inside. So every moment and person I ever loved could stay exactly how I loved them and I wouldn’t have to worry about the world beyond them ever. And then I’d build one big old snow globe around me and the snow globes (again without any snow) so that I wouldn’t ever grow tired of all the stillness.

The last person I loved had a whole language to them I had to learn. But when that started to stop, I felt as though I stopped knowing some of the words. Or maybe I did know them, but I couldn’t say these words for her sake. I fell mute one word at a time. How do you unlearn a language? By not speaking it?

Sometimes I look at people and I feel sad that I don’t know them.

There’s so much information that’s out there and I’ll know only a fraction. I wish I could live forever just so I could go around and asking people questions like What do you care about? Do you dream often? What music do you listen to? How are your parents? Tell me a cool story or something.

I hate that I don’t know everyone in the world.

Or maybe I hate that everyone in the world may not have their story told.

And what’s a story?

I don’t know.

If I had to put snow in the snow globes, I’d put in the memories of every conversation that I’d ever have. This way I could shake up a person in the globe and everything I’ve ever said or they’ve said to me would float around and I could just pick a line of dialogue between the two of us and study it for hours.

This way I could just listen to them.

And that’s selfish.

Which I am sometimes.

But I’m only selfish because I care so much. And want to share my things to with other people. But sometimes I forget to let them share. So they have their hands full with all my things that I don’t let them reach in their back pocket and give me the note that says they love me too.

I wish I had infinite hands so I could hold all the grief any one person has. Because that’s what I do now. Hold grief.

And absorb damage.

Because no one else will.


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