Tonight, I am awake. For the first time in years, I'm fully awake.
I don't like it. Not even a little bit.
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I wasn't wrong. I was as right as anyone has ever been. Validation has nearly drowned me.
It's just that sometimes people change, and right can become wrong as reality shifts and transforms.
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It's so easy for me to revert to being that guy who did nothing but miss her for years. It was easy to be him, after all. Comfortable like a warm fuzzy blanket. It's so easy to go back. So tempting to just go back to where I feel safe. To where I feel like myself.
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I censor myself in this journal. And now, more and more often, I censor myself in my life. This is not me, this shell that pretends and lies and laughs that fake laugh to hide the sound of sobbing. It's not me at all. I don't know what it is, this thing I've become. Some ridiculous caricature, perhaps, drawn by the same drunk retarded blind child who one day suddenly found himself in charge of my feelings, and now finds himself in charge of everything that I am.
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Tonight, for a while now, I've gone back even farther than I usually go. I've reverted to another life. A life devoid of emotion, and therefore a life devoid of meaning.
I don't like it. Not even a little bit.
