flashbacks.

Our minds do this unequivocal thing where they don’t allow us to forget the past. Those things that we can call a flashback. You can’t escape your past. Ever. It haunts you.

I can’t stop replaying moments in my past, over and over and over. Like today, for instance, had I not been supervised would I have remembered to put my phone inside of my clipboard?

Instead, I left it in my pocket that is too small for a phone and it fell to the ground and shattered.**

I day dream, a lot. How can you not day dream when you are stuck in a car for 4 hours, by yourself, over the course of a weekend? How can you not day dream when things don’t seem to be getting better? How can you not day dream where there are long periods of time where you are extremely bored at work?

I mean, I don’t cry anymore. I guess that’s progress. I haven’t in a few months. I remember all of October was unstoppable tears that seemed to flow out of years of turmoil and anguish and not just my current predicaments.

Our minds let us feel the good times over and over. Our minds let us wonder if we will ever experience those good times with someone else. Our minds are relentless, bringing us back to that person over and over again in our dreams and every conscious waking moment that we don’t have distractions.

I am terribly awful at distracting myself. I am terribly awful at knowing the right thing to say to my friends when they are sad. I’m terribly awful at even making myself feel any better.

I blame it on my stupid mind. Not only is he in my dreams, he’s in my mind. In my flashbacks, in my regrets, my hopes, my wishes. I wish I could just hope about myself, alone.

The problem is, once you have a taste of not being alone you flash back to the moments where that feeling was finally gone. You flashback to the taste of his lips. The feeling of being held. The feeling of an instant spark that you just cannot get out of your head. The feeling of having someone to text all day long and all hours of the night. You flashback to when you felt like you could believe in romance again. You flashback to regretting sending that one angry text.

That angry text was probably not the reason that all of this has happened. Where I feel it is right to be together, he feels it is wrong. Maybe it’s timing. Maybe I really am not right for him.

I can’t help flashing back to sitting on that towel on the beach that day when him and I barely knew each other. I can’t help but feel the warmth of the sun on my skin and the warm of his personality surrounding me and making it all okay.

Please, mind, no more flash backs.

**(That’s besides the point. It’s so great that I have to pay $50 for a refurbished phone that is probably going to break yet again before I am eligible for an upgrade. Oh, the joys of adulthood. Luckily I was semi-adult enough to remember to get insurance seeing as I continuously have terrible luck with phones.)

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