I don\\’t know when it stopped. I don\\’t know how. But I think about my life—I am doing better now, but I hide it well. I talk about things openly, but I am guarded.<\/p>\n
Depressing moments hit me as I watch couples express their happiness. My mind wanders back to Chris and me—and it falls empty. It hurts because of all the history. Last Sunday, I thought that…maybe I was wrong. Could anybody else be as dedicated to help me? I felt the scars smart and they pinch so much. Despite the incidents that I had, he came through…he watched…<\/p>\n
And at an early checkpoint, there was a place where you filled in the blank:<\/p>\n
\\”If I died tonight, ________\\”<\/p>\n
I just wrote, Tell the ones who I love that I love them<\/i>.<\/p>\n
Chris said that he wouldn\\’t tell me until we got to the end. Near the end, he told me. \\”To spend it with the one that I love.\\”<\/p>\n
Sadness dripped through my soul as earlier that week I had decided that it would not be Chris. I am unhappy…as right now I see a dark future. I can\\’t plan and planning is in my nature—my love. I don\\’t see future travel. I don\\’t see anything. The only glimmer of hope is when I think of moving to Europe, I hope that he may move with me.<\/p>\n
And yet, when I think of Francis, my mind immediately wanders to possibility<\/i>. It\\’s a never-ending illness sometimes. I think of future events…and it\\’s just pollutes my thinking. But there\\’s the tension. I just want to know. I just want to know what will happen. And it\\’s that line that I have not crosses that causes my anticipation.<\/p>\n
I don\\’t know why I am attracted toward him—is it the possibility? I can\\’t explain why. The exoticism. The certainty at some level. The stability. I don\\’t know…and I just want answers.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
I don\\’t know when it stopped. I don\\’t know how. But I think about my life—I am doing better now, but I hide it well. I talk about things openly, but I am guarded. Depressing moments hit me as I watch couples express their happiness. My mind wanders back to Chris and me—and it falls … Continue reading Tears have stopped flowing<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-514","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-general"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/j.unoccupied.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/514","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/j.unoccupied.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/j.unoccupied.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/j.unoccupied.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/j.unoccupied.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=514"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/j.unoccupied.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/514\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/j.unoccupied.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=514"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/j.unoccupied.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=514"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/j.unoccupied.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=514"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}