I chose to use my time reading over my insane three journals during my BYU years all of yesterday and tonight and at first I was proud of myself for actually facing it all again. I really haven't written anything in that last beautiful journal since I left. It hurt too much at first, and then as time passed, it started to not mean anything to me. It all died in my heart somehow and I have never looked at it for almost two years once I had written the last details down.
At first, I was proud of myself for doing this, facing the past, truly examining what happened, and knowing I've reached acceptance. But I think the thing that hurt the most was how little it all means to me now. I'm not at that stage of my life anymore. These echoes are worth very little in my present life, but how empty my present life is in comparison.
Yes, I was proud of myself, I even laughed a lot over the things I had forgotten. And then, I faced the fact that I have a big presentation to prepare for that is due tomorrow. I decided to waste my few precious hours reading over the old angst and wonder rather than work on it and now I have to stay up all night to do it; in a way, it makes me feel like I am back in those years, when I would hardly get any sleep, doing stupid stuff and procrastinating everything to the last minute.
Then I crashed into a wall after tripping over a cord I somehow managed to catch my foot on and bruised up my arm. I'm sleep deprived from reading the journals until 2am last night, and I felt woozy. I had to lie down on the floor for a bit; I was seeing strange green spots in my vision. One of my cats came over and bit my arm, gently of course, but god! And then, I felt the loss all over again and started crying. Because I'm tired and opened up a stupid door.
And now I'm here, instead of working on my presentation, while my two cats have a face off from different chairs under the dining room table. And all I can think about is the waste of it all. I feel I've aged ten years since that time in my life.
Why am I sharing any of this? What even started all of this?
A rare dream of snow.
And whenever I dream of snow, he's there.
