To what I forgot

CHAPTER 12

To what I’d forgot…

I forgot what it feels like to feel ok. I forgot you, the person I used to be. I forgot me. How are you? Are you still here, with me? I forgot 13-year-old me, are you proud of me now? I forgot how to be by myself. I forgot what live was about before it all happened. I’ve forgotten how to live like I’m not dying. People often say “live like you were dying”, but that state of mind only applies if you know when you’re going to die. With chronic pain, it could be today, tomorrow or I many years, not even related to the chronic of it all. I’ve forgot how to live, with hope that the people I’ve met today, want to be around tomorrow. I’ve forgotten that people do want to stick around, and I’ve forgotten how to let them. I’m working on it. Slowly I’m re-learning to let people stay. Often, I get very attached to people and I am very open and tell them everything they would ever want/need to know, about me. Because, in the back of my mind, I think they’re going to leave and I want them to remember me. Sometimes I tell them everything, because I don’t know where I’ll be tomorrow and, again, I want them to know that I wanted to know them and I wanted them to know me. Maybe I have a fear of being forgotten? People say, how can you be so open with complete strangers, I feel that, strangers are the best people to open up to. Strangers, have no stake in the game, they’ll be honest with you. If you’re an asshole, you’re about to find out! I go around through life with the main idea that if you don’t want to listen, you’ll tell me to shut up, or leave, but I find that generally people like stories. If they don’t know you and you open up to them, it’s just another story. I have always been able to listen to peoples’ stories, and I’ve always been able to tell my own, but I’ve forgotten that, if you live like there’ll be a tomorrow, you can continue the story then. What’s your story?