A most painful experience 

  
You would think it stupid, an innocuous task. An annoyance at the very worst. Maybe that’s why I’ve subconsciously been avoiding the task for some time, because I knew it would be painful when I saw them. Today it came to the point where I was forced to clean up my space. The place I live in, don’t get me wrong I clean regularly. The whole house but in my bedroom I seldom scratch the surface.

If I were to go much deeper than the shallows I would begin to find and see things. Lost parts of myself, people long gone. Flames that have gone out. Like a museum and a mirror all in one. It’s not the nicest of experiences. This time was quite different. Letters, gifts, notes, clothing, toiletries, plane tickets, pictures. The whole 9 yards. 

It was a most painful experience, I can’t say I’ve ever been made to feel so awful by an innocuous task such as cleaning but here we are. When I love someone I do it whole heartedly. I don’t love by halves. The unfortunate thing is it makes breakups a painful process. Not just losing a girlfriend, but a friend, confidante and much more.

  
 These things are a part of life. Doesn’t make them any easier. I’ve thrown away a lot of things. Broken things and parts of myself that have long been lost to time. One think that is certain is that the memories fade and faces blur. Time devours all things. In some cases those artefacts were the last pieces of a memory. Some things just have to be let go of, and there has never been a better time. 

The other thing I saw in the museum of me was all that I could have become. My potential, what was wasted was painfully reflected back to me. It really put into perspective my lack of plans and how many opportunities that have passed me due to my travels. It’s funny that all this time I still have an almost instinctual urge to escape London and England all together. It’s apparent that there is as little here for me as there has ever been.

 

Sadness is okay but not when it becomes all encompassing. That kind of sadness is destructive and not healthy for anyone. Of course I’m upset, I’m just more upset about my current state of being. Feels like everything went wrong slowly over the course of a few months. I’ve lost a lot in half a year, almost everything. I’m now free of it. No obligation to anyone or anything. 

Having freedom is great but I really don’t know what to do with it. I really need to find something to occupy me. I need money, friends and more women in my life. I think it’d be wise for me to spend the next few months working on myself and getting some sort of direction because at the moment I’m slowly going nowhere.

It’s gonna be a long few months. I’m just glad I won’t have to see that stuff again. People always talk about how this sort of thing is therapeutic. I disagree. It’s more like a wake up call. Blunt, abrasive, painful. Probably necessary. I need a direction because honestly I have never had one. I also need a job.

-Misanthropist.

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