After breaking down and giving in, I called you. In tears and sobbing.
I don’t want to be alone.
But after the hysteria briefly calmed, I realized what a mistake I made. Calling you, late at night and crying, would do no good. I was hurting you. You couldn’t come to my aid. You couldn’t care for me. You made it clear you didn’t want that. And I didn’t want that for you either.
I apologized and apologized. That’s all I ever do. It’s the only thing I know how to do well. It’s been ingrained in me to apologize for myself. For causing harm and worry.
In the middle of crying I was sorry, it dawned on me.
This was the day I came back to you last year. This was the day you held me in your arms, gently. Promising we’d get through this. That you would stay and be by my side.
And that night, I sat between your legs on itchy grass, staring up at fireworks with family’s and couples all around in awe.
I was in awe.
Today I made the first steps in getting fish. I got their tank and basic equipment. The excitement lasted maybe an hour.
A few minutes after I made the purchase, guilt washed over me.
And then disappointment.
Why did I just spend the money I could use towards future groceries and bills. Why try to make myself happy. Why try at all.
Why, did I just get another living creature that will depend on me, when I barely know if I’ll be around. If I’ll choose to stay. If I want to live.
I already have a semi-formed plan for my two cats. They mean everything to me. I wouldn’t and couldn’t do anything to harm them. They’ll be fine.
But what about the fish? Or the snake? Or the rats? Or the dogs I wish to have in the future?
I’m trying to fill a void in myself and cling onto anything that resembles happiness to me.
I’ve been all over the place, week after week taking about and researching a new animal I’m interested in. I love animals. I find them fascinating and beautiful.
But I feel manic.
I feel that I’m losing my mind.
And I’m not sure a fish will help.