I didn't want to write this. Really, I didn't. I've sincerely been trying my hardest to drive my emotions as far away from the deep end as possible these past few months but some days, I still sink. Some where deep inside my self reliant, defiant, fuck you mentality is still a glimmer of healthy and that's what brought me back to the page today. This is my band aid. This is me coping. This is me trying my hardest.
I lost my ring on Thursday. Its not an engagement ring or a family heirloom or anything that has any significant monetary value. Its simply a ring. One that I had bought in Colorado Springs in 2007 and every day since, I've been wearing it on my right index finger. I bought a few rings actually. At one point, I had enough to fill up an entire hand. But things get misplaced and forgotten and stuck in couch crevasses and taken by ex girlfriends so after all those years, this was the only one I had left. I spent five years of my life with this little article of memory on my hand and as I was leaving the locker room Thursday after class, I realized I had completely lost it. I sat there for a minute, trying to retrace my steps. Did it fall out of my locker when I grabbed my clothes? Did I put it in my pocket before I went in the pool? Did someone take it? I spent a good hour asking life guards and staff members if anyone had turned it in. I paced up and down the isle of lockers scanning the ground like a metal detector hoping that maybe, just maybe I had missed it the other 12 times. But after all that searching I came up empty handed. I can't help but think that its still somewhere in my back pack or in a pocket I didnt check but ultimately, I've had to come to terms with the fact that its gone.
I find myself doing this a lot. Searching for remedial parts of myself like they are still relevant or even matter at all but at the end of the day, its just a fucking ring. Its just a phrase or a spoiled friendship or a city you've lived in for far too long. Some times, things just get lost. They fall out of our lifes and never come back and usually, its better that way. I dont know what it is about the simplicity of that, but I cant seem to ever be okay with it. I constantly revisit parts of my past, whether its calling up ex girlfriends because I'm lonely or listening to Trick Daddy reminiscing on 7th grade. Deep down, I know why I dont like loss. I know its because I've lost the one person I've needed the most. The one person who held me at birth and then got lost shortly after. So when days like this come around where another part of me gets donated to memory and lost in all physical sense, I myself feel lost. I feel naked and hateful and I want to rip my teeth out and curse the world for being unfair but all that comes out of it is this. Just one more day of feeling like I've lost a little more of myself.
One thing I've gotten really good at is coping. No matter what the issue is, I can cope. That doesn't mean its always healthy. Some times, I will blatantly avoid any healthy outlet and just get fucked up. But its coping. Its just that right now, I'm not too sure where I am in life. Or more so, what I want out of it. I'm lost on how to cope with that... I wake up every day knowing that today is going to be similar to yesterday and usually yesterday sucked. Hard. And so I tend to find myself in an endless cycle of cope. It doesn't stop. Its just repeating itself like Ground Hogs day and I feel like I'm at the part where Bill Murray is driving cars off cliffs and jumping in front of garbage trucks. Some days, I feel like I'd be okay with that. Others, I just feel like thats ridiculous.
I've lost a lot already in life and I know thats typical for most. Its going to keep happening. A friend of mine once wrote " Everything we gain, we lose"... and I couldn't say it any better. It's just a hard proverb to swallow. So as my hand feels bare and my thumb caresses the side of my hand where the ring used to be, I'm going to try my hardest to forget. Just let go Tim. Fucking let go.
Anyway, I didn't want to write this.
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