The Sandman:
Facebook is both a blessing and a bane. She has chosen to cut herself constantly, regularly instead of being stabbed when turning a corner. I'm not sure that's better than complete avoidance.
The Poppy:
She's tried avoidance. She'd have to avoid the lot of them if she wanted to be free. Every one of those Imperial people, anyone connected to him ... even if she's on the other side of the world it would be pretty difficult. Memories are interwoven after all. She has chosen to remain connected and so she has to pay the price.
...
This is my letter to the world
that never wrote to me --
I know I made a choice, possibly not such a considered choice but I think I did my best, all things considered. I chose to stay in touch, I chose to remain close. I was ignored, you tried your best I know but it is my fault for not letting go. Jasmine tells me that I should stop being so thick-headed and I simply told her perhaps she could see this as my OCD. I have chosen to cut myself because I would rather know than not know and avoid and pretend that things have not moved on that you had never gone. JB tells me to get an Aston Martin and stop harping over a Ford Escort but maybe what I'm really doing is giving up driving.
I am tired and last night I lay in bed, tears in my eyes ... they sometimes come spontaneously like old friends coming to visit and I can't stop them. They don't stay long so it's ok. I have made friends with them now. I think of what people will never see and only pray that Jesus is carrying me. I feel the solitary silence deep inside. It is not really loneliness ... it is perhaps more akin to one who has accepted that loneliness has become the norm. This is what life is like - it doesn't mean that it won't be fulfilling but that it is a long road that you will take by yourself. You will feel very much by yourself, you will have many silences, no one can reach into your heart now. That key has been lost and that room inside you have boarded up and only dust and spiderwebs will now dwell within. You have closed the door and kept out the draught as well as you can. You can't give it to someone else. It was only for him. It was custom-made - no one else measures up.
So I've given up driving. I know he won't come back. LF sent a message to him about doing a curry night and that he could bring whoever he liked. Two years ago that whoever would have been me. Today it will be someone else. The girl he is currently dating. The girl from Cambridge. I grit my teeth and focus on work and think about Van Gogh when he was rejected by the girl he loved. Sorrow is a great friend of art. I pray that I have some scattering of genius. If nothing else I will work hard and try to keep as warm as possible. I will not wallow. I will fight on and stand tall. I will smile until the last drop of blood leaves my body. I will fall and get up myself. I will keep moving I must keep moving I will keep smiling I must keep going. I will keep myself going.
You died two years ago and left me behind. There is someone who looks a lot like you but he is different I am sure. I will never feel your touch again, never hold your hand again. I only wish where your body lies so I may see you and run to you and sit by you sometimes when things get too much when I can no longer hold back the tears when the spectres visit my dreams ... if you could only see. But then you are dead. You died two years ago.
I walk a lonely road
the only one I have ever known
don't know where it goes
but it's only me and I walk alone.
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