The first post I’m making since coming back to Washington. By some cruel twist of fate, I sit in the same spot that I used to sit to write these, same keyboard, same time of night, but no more of the same people.
I need to stop comparing, because comparison is the thief of joy, and at this point in my DTS, I ALSO wasn’t close with anyone. Not super close anyway.
Realistically it will get better, but also realistically, it’s not bad.
I was still writing on Instagram a year ago. Wow. That was such a mess, and now I’ve had an actual blog for so long, I forgot about those days. No one reads the actual blog anymore. Only one person ever consistently did, although a few would pop in and out. I miss the one. I guess I still do post on Instagram, but not in the same way. Close friends stories that most people don’t actually read. Idk. It feels different. Because it is.
Back in those days, I was writing every night. I don’t do that anymore. I started writing for Trevor, so even though I’m healing, and I love writing, there’s a whole lot of pain wrapped up in this. I thought I would stop all together, but I don’t have the self control for that.
Back in those days, I would write everything. And I wouldn’t have to save thoughts for later in the notes app.
Back in those days, I was a lot more depressed than I am now. Enough wishing for the past.
“Do you miss him or do you miss the memories you have with him?” Both. In Salem, it was him, because I didn’t have memories with him there. Now, even thought God has been working overtime to restore my heart, North Cascades is stirring up a lot of memories from my DTS, and most of those memories include Trevor in some shape or form. I think I can say that the missing now is more like I miss Ashlin or JT. Not in an all consuming, heartbreaking way, but in a “wow. I really miss my friends” way.
Speaking of those people, and all the rest on top, it’s incredible how much memory places can hold. Tearing up while looking at a couch cushion is not normal. Music too. I got back into liking a song I played over and over on Outreach, and the first time I “reheard” it, I literally had to sit down and just think about Chaiyaphum. Memories are hard. I love them, but hate them too. I need to find a way to not let them consume me.
“Me when I remember that my mom is getting older too.” Oh my gosh. Every few months, I’ll get a dream in which my mom dies. I always, without fail, wake up more shattered than any dream has the right to make me feel. I don’t know what I would do without her, and I mean that wholeheartedly. I love my mom ❤
“I imagined our reunion a thousand different ways.” Oh nooo another snippet about Trevor. Oh well. Anyway. This was sparked by a TikTok I saw, saying something along the lines of “if I had known that would be the last time I hugged you, I would have not let go” or something. Which made me think of March in Portland. The last time I saw him. I wonder if it would have been easier to say goodbye there, and then leave it at that. Probably not. I also thought about him coming to Kansas a lot, back when he was still supposed to. I imagined running to him in the airport from all the angles, I imagined showing him around Abilene, the drive there, being in Vancouver again, actually hiking with him, the drive. Something about it all felt fake, even back then. I don’t want to say I knew something was going to happen. I DO want to say, I convinced myself that something would happen, and so I made it so. Self sabotage will be the end of me. This is the worst it’s ever been though. Maybe that means it’s only up from here.
I’m going as House from House for Halloween and no one can stop me. I’ve been watching season two to study his vocabulary and cadence. I need to buy a cane.
“How is it possible that something so easy and deep is now gone without a trace?” I think it would maybe be easier to come to terms with if we had been dating, because then I could call it a break up, and the level of closeness between us would be better understood. To put it simply, I have never been more seen than I was by Trevor Sullivan. It’s unusual to have someone out there who knows more about me than I maybe even know about myself, and yet I have no way of talking to him.
“I’m looking for Trevor in places that he doesn’t exist.” I saw an Audi in the model that he has. That’s literally it. I should not be haunted by a car.
“I want someone who can heal all the broken parts of me.” “That’s Jesus”. COME ON RAHHHH. No seriously though. I found myself dwelling on the first part, and when the second part finally clicked, I felt silly.
“I miss texting Trevor during these.” That is a I miss last year thing. For context. He and I would always be up the latest, staying in the green room until we absolutely had to come upstairs, texting until 1:00 or 2:00 every night. Ashlin would be near me until around 12:00 every night too, but she was slightly more responsible with her sleep than I was.
“The whispers and echos of those that used to be here.” HA i thought I ate with that. I was just tired. But actually, those whispers and echos are only going to grow as people come and go. I hope I’ll learn to deal with that more gracefully.
I don’t have much more to say. This new DTS that I’m around sometimes is cool, but I’m not around them enough to actually be truly included, and that’s ok. That’s just how it works. I guess I just wish there was someone in Advance my age. Ashlin. Naomi. It is what it is, God has it this way for a reason.
Rainy Ramblings 