In efforts not to continuously repeat my same mistakes, I am trying to do things a little differently. This has led me to the path and understanding that where I am is a direct reflection of me…my experiences and how I have reacted. It was never about anyone else even if they did me wrong, because every experience served as a lesson.

I’m trying to drop my entire history…with everyone and everything. It doesn’t matter…even stuff that happened a week ago…because I acted and reacted in the way(s) that I thought was appropriate based on what I knew and believed. If I am going to shake the repetition I have to shake the story. There is no need to tell anyone anything about me in terms of what I went through, because who I am now is who I am. Nobody should care about the why–I own those reasons privately. Understanding my history or trying to expose others to it will just enable them the power to judge–and at the end of the day I could care less what other people think as I am always my own worst critic. It also makes sense as I have been told time and time again my mortality is the thing that I need not to share with people because who really wants to be with someone with those kinds of health issues? And if that weren’t an obvious no-no enough, there are many other things I should be more careful about just disclosing.

I have been wracked with tears about this lately and I don’t know why. I came in alone…spent much time alone…and at the end of the day I will gladly go out on my own…and the tears continue to roll down my cheeks even as I type this. I just need to get over it and understand that not everyone has a singular someone else, nor do they need to–and though the jury might be out on me being okay being alone…I think it’s okay I didn’t want to be necessarily. And these musings are not entirely tied into coupling up with people (or person) but having valuable relationships which mean something in the grand fabric of life.

I think I need to get all of the pain out in one exercise…write the memoir and say goodbye to it all. I’ll never have to tell anyone anything about me again, as the book will exist as a pre-memory, a memoir of who I was at one point, who created the me I am today. I will refuse to talk about anything about who I ‘was’ as soon as it is done. This might seem suspect, overly guarded, or stupid, but at the end of the day I am still way more ballsy than most. I take risks, I expose myself to everything, good and bad. I do realize doing this cuts me off in some ways from anyone really truly knowing where I came from, but what’s the point of rehashing stuff the other person had nothing to do with? I am tired of telling my story and having nobody hear me anyways…or at the end of the day deciding to ignore it.

Sitting here pouring it out somewhere nobody ever reads…not so ballsy but this is all I have. But I am unafraid. I’ve become more comfortable with dying since 1998. There’s nothing much scarier than that unknown.

I just need to cut myself off from it all. Eliminate the emotions that hurt and focus on the doing, for me. I have friends I love, and family does in their own way as well. I am starting to learn how to accept my shortcomings as my own and no fault of fate or nature. Things happen because they do–movement is necessary or life is stagnant and static. I am here not just for me, but for everyone else I meet to show what I’ve learned. I just need to find the message, wrap it up, and send it off.

I’ve finally heard mine, after all.