I’ve realized that I’m pretty afraid to go to my friend’s memorial on Sunday.
I’m afraid my ex partner will be there.
I’m afraid that I’ll feel too many feelings all at once and I won’t be able to keep myself together.
I haven’t been sleeping very well.
Parts of me aren’t doing so well.
I had a dream where you asked me to show you my life, who I am and from what I have become. My memories and what the places inside my mind look like.
That was the feeling of it anyway.
So I took your hand and started walking, leading you to where I begin.
Taking you through the edges of myself on the streets of a place with no name, the things that I share easily with people. It looked like the old archatecture of southern ontario. Century buildings mixed with more modern store fronts. Mixed residential. Weird side streets.
We climbed a retaining wall and the place turned into Owen Sound, Ontario. I know where we were. I knew exactly where we were.
We had slipped through and into the places inside me that aren’t so easy to get to. You held my hand tighter.
You wanted to hold me, I could tell, but I kept walking, determined and focused.
I’m not totally sure what happened next, but I became afraid and anxious. Some dream details can never be remembered.
I ended up in a confrontation with my ex partner. He was drunk and being dangerous, unpredictable and terrifying. (I wonder now, what depths of hurt is he capable of?)
In my dream he pulled a knife on me. He tried to stab me and was laughing about it. He was laughing at me for being there. He fumbled and dropped the knife. He laughed it off like he was just kidding. Laughing as though, even if he wasn’t kidding, i’d deserve it all anyway. Even if he hadn’t fumbled, he would of laughed the same.
I’m realizing that nothing is truly separate. If I’m processing my past and you are part of my present, these things are part of me right now and they have intersectionality. I shouldn’t feel bad for that. It’s just a fact of how time works.