7. More. Days.
This is (hopefully) the last time we have to do this anymore!
The last 2 months have been the worst for me, if you couldn’t already tell (though maybe that’s the blessing in disguise with the distance).
After getting you for a month, traveling, daily interactions, the little fights, the sweet moments. It kills me to be apart from you for so long. A while ago, you said that I was your best friend; and I couldn’t quite comprehend that. I thought it was weird, I’ve never thought of someone I love like that as a best friend. And it wasn’t until recently that I fully understand that-there’s no one I would rather be with. For anything. Like I can do and go anywhere with you, and it’s always a new experience. Even just the nights traxxing it down to the bars, just the two of us, I loved that. Remember how much shit we stole from the bars?
PC, Wyoming, Vegas, P-Town…watching films on Aliens, and discovering the secret door in my apartment.
No matter what it is, you drag it out of me. Somehow, (knock on wood), the anxiety hasn’t bothered you. But, again, you haven’t seen the extend of which it really does affect my life. We’ve done longer than this before, hell, 2 months is a cinch. But, after having a taste of what our life will be like, I can’t go back. It’s sunken me into a deep depression, missing you, and the anxious wheel in my head doesn’t want me to think about any of the times we’ve had, but rather, worry about things that more than likely are not real. I took for granted the things we do have, the love we have.
This next trip is going to be an adventure for sure. As often as we joked about busing it places around the states, here I go to hop on the Greyhound to Vegas, and fly out to you. Ah well.
I’ve been going to counseling. I never told you because I was embarrassed. Ashamed. I’d sunk as low to that. Even more so, my thoughts were so out of control, I could feel my sanity start to slip even further and further out of my grip, until I finally became medicated. I know your feelings about medication, and the stigmas attached to it. I hate that I need it, I truly do. But you did not see the anguish I battled every single day. The nightmares. I stopped eating. I withdrew from everything and everyone. The constant barrage of manic thoughts that fueled the mania/anxiety and spiraled me into an even worse depression.
Shit kind of hit the fan. I should have done this a long time ago, it probably would have been better to have had me stable for the whole duration of our relationship, and not just the first 12 months.
Things are starting to look brighter. My thoughts are manageable. My emotions are under control. Despite being sick (thanks, mom) I’ve felt more human than I have in a long time. We didn’t talk much today, and normally, that would have freaked me out. I didn’t even notice. I was happy to hear from you. The only things that got to me today was how much I miss you. How happy I am that this wait is almost over. Listening to our songs, and thinking back to 1 year ago when we started our adventure.
How much I fucking love you, C.
How much I want you to know, that through all this turmoil and sadness, you are my light that keeps me going.
We make a good team.
God I miss you.
I can’t wait to see you. 1 week until I am running into your arms at the airport.
I love you.