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penelopie wilson

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translations

have you ever had a day where all you want is to be alone? today is that day for me. i’m still emotionally hungover from the movie last night, and desire to just be.

alone. alone with my thoughts. alone with the silence. alone with the memories that seem to be running the daytona 500 inside my head, and heart, today.

it always seems to be that on the days i wish to be most alone, those around me become chattier. the chattiness feels like an onslaught of noise, bombarding my nerves. words that are saying nothing and their only purpose appears to be keeping me from my own inner thoughts.

i suppose keeping me from my own inner thoughts is a good thing, sometimes. my thoughts tend to run dark and self-destructive most of the time. however, on days like today it feels like it is beneficial for my own mental health to take some solitary time out…and bathe in the memories and thoughts that are consuming me. every part of me.

memories are funny little nuggets, aren’t they? they come and go as they please. the older you become, the less control you have over them.

memories you’d love to remember every second of every day fade with each passing sunrise and sunset.

memories you’ve spent a lifetime trying to bury suddenly surface with the tide. things are often washed ashore that belong out at sea. memories come to the forefront of my mind that i wish would stay buried.

is it necessary to remember to overcome?

i don’t know. i don’t think so. not in most cases. is it easier to overcome things if you remember them and face them? yes. i’ve never been one to take the easy route, though. i tend to take the roads less traveled on my way to my final destination. i pick roads that are littered with potholes and detours and construction. it’s how i am, who i am.

today is the birthday of someone very dear to me. a “mother” of sorts. not by birth or blood…but by bond and love. i came to her late in her life and around 30 years of age in mine. this person was a primary role in my life being saved. saved in the literal sense, as in from death.

she’s an amazing woman. i had only met her, briefly, a couple of times before. before i showed up on her doorstep, dying. she opened her door and brought me in. nursed me back to health, physically, mentally and spiritually. all for love. never, to this day, wanting anything in return. and years after i moved out of her home, she continues to be a part of my life.

she’s someone who has the capacity to love others unconditionally, regardless of the personal cost.

her personal cost for loving me has been great. i am, so i have been told, not an easy person to love. self-destructive people who loathe themselves to the extent i do tend to be hard people to love. we are emotionally exhausting. any redeeming qualities we may possess often get lost in the wash.

i am grateful for her. i try not to be a burden. and, i make my very best effort to always appear to be ok now, so she can finally have a break. a break from worry and fear. she is a strong woman, yes. but even the strongest need a break sometimes.

if i died today, she would mourn my loss. however, she would bounce back relatively unaffected. she is a force. a force to admire and respect. i miss her often, as we don’t get to see each other as often as i would like.

she is a constant voice in my head, always driving me to fight my own natural urges…and strive for the greatness that she claims to see within. she is a miracle that i have been blessed with. she’s part of the reason i grabbed a cup of coffee today…

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