I read through some of my old posts today. I don’t think I ever realized quite how sad and tormented I sounded sometimes. I desperately tried to shine a positive light on my situation, but it was fleeting and I failed miserably. My struggle came from the fact that I could not express what I was feeling in words. No amount of adjectives could properly describe the agony. Raw, broken, empty, numb, lifeless. There is no word that can properly depict that level of pain.
It’s been almost exactly two years since the last time I saw P. Am I pathetic for still being tortured by what I went through? I am pretty happy. My life has gotten progressively better since that fateful day that I walked away. I have regular slumps, but everything seems to be in an upward trend. This is just during the day though. At night, I can’t fight anymore and the memories come rolling back. Something about the quiet darkness opens the flood gates. It’s still just as painful, not raw anymore but I hurt so much on the inside.
Sometimes I wish I could talk to him. I wish I could ask why and get him to explain. I want to know if he actually remembers what he did to me. If he was lying when he says he was blacked out and has no idea. I want to know if there is any amount of remorse or regret. I just don’t understand his mind, what happened and why it all got so bad. And I think one of the most frustrating parts of trying to heal are all of these unanswered questions. The sad truth is I’m never going to get any closure. Those questions are going to haunt me for the rest of my life.