I’ve always been an idiot.
I told my family again and again while I was young that I always wanted to live alone and at the first opportunity, I moved in with KD. It’s weird because, it’s been almost a month since I was told “I don’t love you any more” and I feel like my heart has already been surrounded by plasters and bandages so much so that I can’t really remember what it felt like in the first place.
Honestly, I think taking care of some of the more important things both in my life and KD’s was pretty humbling. She was terrible at getting anything done and I enjoyed being there for her.
But she was also really useful in the sense that she was my emotional crutch. If I laddered for 8 hours straight only to find myself lower or at the same place, she’d comfort me. If I got rejected for a job I was really excited for, she’d make me feel alive again.
I’m not saying “I want her back” so to speak, but essentially I never moved out on my own and I haven’t been able to grow as a person for over 3 years, nearly 4. I could have gone on forever being Alex and KD, but maybe that isn’t really healthy.
I’m standing at a cross roads next to a river of broken possibilities. Reject all that I knew and grow once more, or adopt the past and repair and thrive.