I love you and goodbye | Sméagol

I’m sorry if this post is just disconnected ramblings.

I love you, goodbye. So innocent and so powerful. You might say these words at the end of a phone call, or as you leave for work or school, a short term removal of someone you care about. You might say goodbye to a stranger you will never see again and it won’t affect you at all. But then there is goodbye to someone special, a goodbye that means losing a friend, or telling your dying grandma that you love her. That’s when goodbye is not such a simple thing. What about saying goodbye and not knowing it’s the last, a regret you may forever hold onto. When you’re suicidal, saying goodbye is even harder when it’s meant to be your last, since only you know, the other people may not appreciate it to the extent you do. Always be heartfelt in letting someone go, you never know when, or even if, they will come back into your life.

I’m so tired of letting people go. Losing friends and family. I know, I’ve written about it before. I never had many friends and those I do have always have to leave. Well goodbye. They say they’ll visit, stay in touch, whatever, fuck that, it doesn’t happen. From all my childhood friends who moved away, to those that were part of my everyday life. All of them are gone. It’s hard to accept, I don’t want to lose something so precious (this is the Sméagol part), but no matter how much I hold on, they always slip through my fingers.
It’s been probably 10 months since I reached out to my old friend, I used to call them once in a while just to say hi, they always seemed busy so I told myself I wouldn’t bother them, that their could call me if they had time, they haven’t called once, or text or anything for that matter. They aren’t the person I remember, and I know I’ve changed too, but when did we stop being friends and became nothing more than a face full of memories.
Edit: You know what, I’m tired of seeing your face on social media, mocking me, reminding me that you’re gone. This is what it has devolved into.
My more recent friend moved 8 months ago, we’ve visited, and I work with them, but we don’t call to catch up on life, so we are also working that relationship right back to friendly acquaintance you might grab lunch with as you pass through town.
Edit: Maybe you don’t realize. But I do. That was goodbye, I knew it then, and I know it now.
Now I just said goodbye again, this time to a friend I met online here, a friend that I could always talk to when things got rough because they understood. And even though I’ve never met them spoken to them other than messages, they are as much a friend as any. This time I hope ours different, I hope it isn’t such a fateful goodbye. It’s not supposed to be.
Edit: If you see this, I hope you are okay. I know you need this space and time. I’ll be here if you come back.
That’s it, honestly, in more than 10 years these are the only person’s I could call friends. They were all so precious.

Now on to my husband. He’s been distant lately, texting and talking to his old friends. He didn’t used to do that and I fear that it’s my fault. Ever since I fell back into this out I have been so disconnected emotionally from everything in life. I haven’t been there for him at all this past year despite all he’s done for me. It feels more like we’re just roommates than a couple. He’s said it himself. I’ve always had some issues physically, we don’t even share a bed, but I was able to work through most of it before my brain broke again into a thousand fragments of who I am. I’m not there for him, I don’t know why we continue to play this game. I should leave. It’s just one more goodbye, one more person to shut out so I can be alone. He’s a good father too, better at parenting than I can hope to be.

A for my daughter, I’m sure I’m doing a fine job of traumatizing her for life. God I hope she doesn’t turn out like me. When I decided to have a child I thought I was past the BPD, bipolar bs, I was clearly wrong. Please got through this life okay and happy.

One last mini rant, I’ve always had memory gaps, entire sections of my life that have fallen through the holes of time, sometimes a happy memory emerges so detailed and clear, but the ones that seem to never fall away are the ones that hurt. My brain needs to stop playing tricks on me.