Two people in my family are not on talking terms, since getting back from our holiday. The whole thing has been unsettling, and sadly tainted what would otherwise have been a loving and enjoyable vacation.
Last night I couldn’t sleep; I couldn’t stop thinking about the current situation and what it represents and brings up in me. My thoughts and memories took me back to how things “used to be”. I remembered all the similarly painful moments I had banished from my memory, and how much this sort of instability affected me – and continues to do so.
I had actually forgotten how much it gets to me – how young and scared it makes me feel. How protective I feel towards certain people. How desperately I want to fix things. How much I crave signs of love even amidst their wars, to show me they’re still around. How I seek reassurance that this is temporary, and try to make that so. How I try and abstractly apologise to the both of them on the others’ behalf – as though somehow it must be my fault if things fail to work out between them.
How I have to stop myself from feeling anything because there are too many feelings – ones that are not mine – in the air already. How scared I feel for them. Of them. How much I crave stability and security within the family. How sad I am that I don’t remember ever having that.
How my fear of losing people – of rejection – takes so many different forms, and how helpless that makes me feel. How much I feel like all the pain in the world is somehow my own fault. How unsettled I feel inside yet how unable I am to express it, because I don’t have the right to a voice. How the only person in the world who I want to talk to about this is not around for me to talk to, and how lonely I feel without her.