May 3rd

Wednesday, 9:26 am

Nothing.

Nothingness.

Empty.

Void.

Funnily enough, I though this would feel colder. More of a lukewarm, puddle on a cloudy day. Thought I knew depression. Thought I had felt the harshness, the rock bottom low, the full force.

Sharked.

Cant sleep. Not tired. Eyes are heavy, red and swollen. As if my late night was spent crying instead of mindless tasks.

I did cry. I burst into tears and went back to work. Like nothing was wrong. Hole in my chest still raw. Like nothing was wrong.

We broke up. Without saying goodbye.

Come to think of it, neither one of us are very good at goodbyes.

How can we even use the title "best friends", we've been so disant since your mum's death. You kept me at a distance. I kept you in the bubble of safe and content, because I didn't know what to do. I didn't know how to be your friend. We've been so distant. Why do we keep bullshitting each other.

I'm too much to handle, I'm too different. I cause you pain.

Nothing I can do now. Nothing I could ever do.

Wrong timing. Bad communication.

I think we'd be so good for each other, if we met each other now. If I knew who I was, if you could just accept it. If I could just know how I hurt you.

I get to walk away with out saying goodbye. And that's going to be even harder than you know.

May 1st

Monday, 10:38 am

Overwhelmed with the void.

Again.

No sting.

Again.

No release.

Again. Again. Again.

I couldn't feel the pain.

Sheets stained.
Shirt stained.
Soul stained.

Long sleepless night.

April 30th

Sunday, 7:30 pm

I didn't want you to leave

Paralyzed laying next to you, my mind screaming to reach out.

Murmur,
help me.
Whisper,
I don't know if I can be alone tomorrow.
Sob,
I don't trust myself.

Paralyzing.
Pretending to sleep.

I don't want you to leave.
I've never been this scared.

Today. Death was a possibility.
I've never been this scared.

Tomorrow, the feelings of this night will be unfathomable.
Fear is now, empty.
Empty is now, nothing.

Two more months.

Memories shift emotions

I could further along in the many subjects that have peaked my interest.

Japanese, sign language, baking, painting, craft, knitting, sewing, guitar, violin, voice acting, singing, dancing, drawing, writing.

I could be in a number of cities and places, in Canada or the states.

Alberta, Revelstoke, Tofino, Abbotsford, Seattle, Chilliwack, San Francisco, Michigan.

I could have graduated, on time, with my first highschool.

Not my fourth.

I could have gone to prom, with friends. Dated, gotten a job, my license, a car, a home.

Lived on track. Any track.

I could have a best friend. A group of them.

That loved me, truly.

I could have stayed.

But I fought back. I pushed and pushed and ended up alone. So many deep connections lost, because I too was lost.

I ran. It's what I'm best at.
Deflect. Ignore. Push.

There are many paths I could have taken. Many paths I now know were wrong. Many roads that led me stray, that helped me run.

In the end, I am here. A few leagues behind where I think I should be, but here none the less.

Finally making time to sit with my feelings, thoughts, memories. My flight response.

I've pushed and pushed and pushed. And it's coming back up. Time to sort through the why's, the darkness.

My past.

"And I won't ever let you go"

"Wait for me to come home."

I'm not home, right now.

Loving can heal, loving can mend your soul
And it's the only thing that I know, know
I swear it will get easier,
Remember that with every piece of you
Hm, and it's the only thing we take with us when we die

Let's start with some introductions.

Hi, I'm Toby. I'm 24, 25 in March. 

I'm a Non-Binary, Asexual.

Nice to meet you.

It's be a long journey, but here I sit, wiser and far more free than I've ever been. I was pushed. Torn. Hurt. Lost. Alone. Displaced. Uncomfortable to the point of breaking, in my own skin. So far into myself, that the darkness was warmth, the lost was normal. It's been a long journey, but here I sit.

It's been a long journey, but here I sit, smarter and far more calm that I've ever been. I was confused. Stupid. Mislead. Disconnected. Angry to the point of breaking, in my own skin. So far into myself, that the mental illnesses were warmth, the disassociation was normal. It's been a long journey, but here I sit.

It's been a long journey, but here, I sit. Ready to make the next steps towards the person I truly am, the person that needed time to bloom. 

It's been a long journey, but here I sit, today, alive, and fighting. 

It's been a long journey, but here is where I no longer sit, as these are my first steps into my next milestone. 

Hi, I'm Toby. I'm 24, 25 in March. I'm a Non-Binary, Asexual. And I am going to get top surgery, this year or next. These are my first steps. It's nice to meet you. 

Soft murmur, weak, but still beating.

You are heard.

Just when we were panicking,
 hope lost at the last life signs fading.

The planets terraforming just wasn't taking.

Monitors cease alarm mode, panic still set,
 a hush falls as breath catches,
a rhythmic pulse can now be heard.

You are heard.

"You met me at a strange point in my life," the letter begins "and while this was beneficial, (perhaps to both of us) it wasn't a point where I had solid footing. While I still think I'm not in the best place in life, I've had a long time to think of what I truly need, where I should be heading, the person I'd like to be when I get there, and what would help me get further to my goals of being content, mindful, and embracing love." The writer takes a sip of wine and lets out a long breath. "It's going to be quite the journey, but I believe I've got the training to get me started, (equipped a walking stick this time 'round.) And I'd like to have you be apart of that quest, at time we weren't the best for each other, but thq path I chose isn't straight and narrow, it wanders 'round like a drunken fellow, some days it's hard for me to follow, but if you've got my back I'll go on. If you've got my back I'll go on..."

Mal's Mix "Tape",

 [and some other things.]

Disk one,

/play

I'm going to write a proper reply. You deserve so much more than these petty blog call outs. I'm going to rewrite you a proper reply, I'm sorry if it will take some time, but it's on it's way. I promise.

Snail mail, proper letter. I need to sit down and put my thoughts into words. A long talk does need to happen, but for now, please wait for my reply. Alot is happening right now which has delayed everything I've needed to get to, from sewing projects, to this.

Don't think I've brushed you completely off. Even though your number was blocked back then and still prevents messages coming through, I did hear the voice mail.

I understand it's been months, but thank you for waiting. I appreciate it.