Not yet

So it’s been a few months, 4 to be exact and a lot of things have happened.

I was quiet and happy (for a while) but the unhappiness is back. Only this time I know better. I know what would make me happy. Funny thing about it is, I can’t seem to get up and do it.

That laundry list of things that I’ve labeled “things I need to accept”, is getting harder and harder to accept. And yet I know the longer I prolong it, the worse it will get. I know I can’t stay like this, and I know I can’t live like this. But it’s so difficult to say it.

I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to stay. But the convenience of staying and the inconvenience of going, the comfort of having something against the difficulty in letting go is keeping me paralyzed. It’s a hard decision to make and I’m not strong enough to make it, yet.

That word, yet.

It’s a prelude to strength. A promise of something big, a precipice to dive from. I know it will come but I’m reluctant for it to arrive. At the same time it describes the worst…I’m here yet I’m unhappy, I go through everyday yet I can’t stand being here.

I’d rather not be here, I know where I can speak my truth, I know where I can sleep better, I know who I’d rather be with. But right now, I don’t have the strength to go there.

I’ve convinced myself that if I can come to terms with that one thing then I can let go. I’ll get there, I know. It’s getting easier everyday. Yet I dread for it to happen. When I stop caring, when I stop thinking about it, when it doesn’t matter anymore, that’s the day.  A part of me doesn’t want it to go that far, but it seems inevitable.

Words have lost their meaning, some days it doesn’t even matter. But I want to leave with a good impression, I want to leave in good terms. And that will only happen when I stop caring.

So here I am, living each day in misery. Knowing something yet being told something different. Eyes wide open but shutting them to what I see. Knowing in my heart what’s going on but numbing myself to the feeling.