That was then and this is now

Thursday 10/9/25

You weren't the person you should have been when you were with someone. Then after you don't know them, not only are you, you're even better than the person you should have been. But that doesn't matter with that other person, because of everything else that happened. And you think, okay, that can be made to go away. What happened happened.

But what I am struck by--and I'm not saying it shouldn't be this way--is that it's almost impossible to overcome what happened, no matter what a person became and what those two people might be. And you can't call it timing either--like, it all could have gone differently, been the most amazing thing, if they met later on. Met now instead of then. Perhaps that person would have never done what they did to become who they were supposed to be in the first place, but better than that. And then if they miss that other person, they may feel a kind of melancholy and loneliness that is rare--like the can feel the hurt held within the walls of a pit inside of them--in a life and a world where pain and sorrow isn't exactly uncommon or without nuance.

That was just something I've been thinking about, especially these last few days.

I spoke to my uncle yesterday because he was worried about me. Very rarely do I experience kindness or concern. In describing aspects of this situation, this worse than hell of a life at present, with no reason to think it will improve--save, unless one wishes to count it, faith, and a faith in what I am and that that will have to mean something at some point--I began to cry. It was very hard.

An editor of mine told me that this other editor with whom we both work lost his wife the other day. I immediately wrote him a note, saying that though we did not know each other well, I have always considered him a good man and I was sure his wife must have been an amazing woman and if there was anything I could do either personally or professionally to help to please let me know. He wrote back saying they were in their fortieth year of marriage. I felt terrible for him. And terrible overall. Deeply, overwhelmingly sad for so many things.

I need to force myself to keep going. I really need to force myself right now. It's funny...you think about "want to..." and "feel like..." and "I'm in the mood for..." This isn't any of those things. This isn't consent. I'm not consenting. I am forcing myself to do things against my will with what is also my will. Or else I'm just going to be dead. So. You know.