Release

Hidden Trauma of a Love Lost

High Exposure of the journaling of my progression between the relation of KB and I.

Perhaps this isn't my story to tell,
& it should have been something mutually written,
but I know that wouldn't come to be.

I love and loved this girl,
It was an awful traumatic mess.
A tragedy.

I often kept this a secret,
though it haunts me,
so I'm here to set it free and sacrifice my morale.

This isn't the story entirely and many details are missing, I wrote the majority of this on a great amount of lack of sleep while waiting at the airport, forgive me for any errors. It covers the gist and is exposing of myself enough, & journal entries in real time after my general inquiry at the beginning.

It's all fucked.

~

Writing in reflection of past events that began to take place 652 ~ days ago.

June 25th, 2022 ~

I haven't done a very effortful or completely honest job at telling the story of the events that occurred between Karla and I.

When I'm typically asked about my ending experience in Mexico, I basically state that I helped an individual escape from a very cartelesc environment and had a gun pulled on me at one point, & and that eventually the escape was successful.

Perhaps this is for me to disassociate the emotions with the actual experience, and to do my best to put a positive spin on it, like I was some kind of hero for surviving such a feat.

This is a terribly small part of the story, and even though it be true, it still feels like a very white lie, as it's far from the entire truth, and with myself leaving out so many details; it easily portrays a different story than the actual reality that took place.

There is a lot of emotion in this story that I neglect to think about or incorporate in the short story of my great survival and success, and I need to approach it now with empathy, and to tell the story with as much truth as possible, for Karla, and for myself to be vulnerable as well. Though I might be left confused in the silence that I've been given, I deserve it, and though I've been left in silence, I feel that due to the situation that occurred between her and I, I cannot help but love and do my best to appreciate her and the courage that she had in those moments. Every time I've loved, or really dedicated myself to someone, it's always been different, very different. A different sort of love.

October 31st, 2022 ~

I need to write about this..
I avoid it for far too long, and to know that this is probably the greatest trauma that I've I'm emotionally attached to. Everything I think about it, I hold tears back. I feel the cage rattling inside my soul struggling itself to death from the embodiment of the emotional tyrant that lives inside of me. I don't know why I'm unable to let this go. Maybe I don't give these emotions enough credit and constantly suppress them when possible. I need to confront them, but really don't want to, as I feel that it'll release this abyssal force that'll conquer me. This all took place during my emotional and mental revolution, the most intense moments of my life all began and ended with her. All memories are tied to her name. To imagine what I hold behind these moments. At the amount that I loved this girl, to the fault of my own abandonment, as I abandoned her. This is over a year long story, that I've untouched. Yet it lives inside of me everyday, and she doesn't know. She's moved on, she's distracted in the present and living a new life. She lives in Toronto now, & is with another man. A man of monetary success, and potential family wealth. Karla now with a dead father, and a forgotten mother, but there's great trauma that binds us. Though I've been removed from her life, and I feel that I deserve it. A part of my soul belongs to her, a large part, as Harry Potter is to Voldemort, my combined and multiple traumas, are connected to her. Perhaps she wasn't capable of giving me the care that I needed at the time, as she was constantly wishing death upon herself. Perhaps I was something that reminded her of her trauma of escaping. She's like my Angel of death. She was the first person I called after I overdosed on serotonin, she was there when her father was threatening to kill me. I hold myself partly accountable for his death, as I had a great impact on his life's final permutations. I was suffering too much, I was carrying too much, and I was looking to escape, even though I feel an empty curiosity towards her. My love for her isn't a love that heals or is good for me, but a longing sorry, or suffering pain inside of me that won't go away. Like a curse, I'm emotionally tied to her, and I don't know how to remove myself from her. I couldn't handle the pressure, and at the time I was still mentally trapped in the childhood traumas from my upbringing, that I'm now free of. Though, everything I've done in my life was because of those traumas, so am I ever truly free of them, will I ever be free. Though I know the answer, that we are all a reflection of our past, that it's inescapable, we simply must come to terms with it, we cannot avoid it. I'm a different person since these events occurred, though Karla never accepted me, never seemed to appreciate me, or what I did for her. Her childhood traumas disabled that feeling. I know she's troubled, I know she'll hurt for all of her life, but she hides from it. This guy she's with, I feel like he doesn't know her, no one will know her like I do, as what we experienced leaves scars on our souls, whether she will admit it, or not. As time went on, that I was with her, my suffering from being around her, slowly had me passively resenting her, as my past was consuming, and she was consuming, all these was was emotional suffering. I needed a break, a moment. She's here because of me, I started this path of irreversible change. Yet, I'm given recognition. I feel as if I desire affirmation for what I've done, for my sacrifice that goes unseen, and untold. I know by my absence I hurt her too, and the things that I said to her could have often only made things worse, as the darkness was also growing inside of me, it was consuming me as well, but not the same as hers. My past was still alive within me, my fears, my traumas, along with the new. I was imploding with emotion. Though, I must empathize with her as well, to only imagine what she was going through, to have finally escaped her abusers that she was with for 20 years of her life, the constant desire she had to kill herself, I still fear for her, for this. Will that day come when she finds the edge, when the meets the endless wall.
Maybe I need to forgive myself for leaving, I need to find my ego, I need to be selfish, I need to realize that I left her for my own wellness but against my moral virtue, as there were many times I would have given myself up for her life. It's strange to accept death, every time one does, they lose themselves a bit more, when they accept that death, a part of themselves dies. The desire for self fulfillment becomes more and more empty, & Karla was only the beginning of my train of self inflicted ego deaths, something that I seem to desire now. I want the pain to relive, to feel alive, to escape death as I did when I accepted it the first time when I was in Jaumave. When I was in my small room, and refused to leave Jaumave without Karla. I was on the phone, with my grandparents, telling them,
"I can't leave her."
"She needs me."
"She has no one else."
This was during her silence,
after death was threatened upon me, that's when everything changed. It's like something in her brain flipped, she emotionally abandoned me for a moment, but perhaps she found out that I was the only option of her escape. To escape the tyranny of her father. Her emotions died, a part of her died then, to accept me as an option, to choose me over her own father, a man she wanted to only impress her entire life, to who she looked up to as a child, to then realize that it was all a lie, the ultimate betrayal. She was completely broken, as I was accepting death to not leave, lost in heart knowing that she needed someone, something. Maybe if I left at that moment she'd be dead now, after the most inflicting trauma, when the entire world inverted. I needed to stay, I accepted death, and her and I formulated a plan. We came up with secret hums to communicate while her parents were near, or while it was night, to check on her I would hum a hum and in response receive a positive hum, or negative hum, or something to express a desire, emotion, feeling, answer, that I still use today, & those who are around me are also contaminated with this soft hum, yet the core of it grows from Karla. I carry this with me, as even once we escaped, we continued to use it. It became something cute, a Crystal made from trauma, that has now lost its light as I still carry it holding the shadow it was once curated from. I'm sure it's still with her too, though she is excellent as composing herself into someone entirely different, as she has been acting her whole life. In another universe, Karla and I are still together, and that brings me comfort, that one of me and one of her is somewhere happy, rejoiced, without tainted hearts or mind, but us that exist in this reality, both darkened. No one can escape that trauma. As I've been writing this, I feel the trauma very much alive inside of me, the fire in my veins that leaves my body cold. While I was with her, I become so blind, as time went on. My frustration towards her, to her lack of expression towards me, to her lack of desire to live, to her lack of gratitude for what I did. I slowly resented her, when I shouldn't have. It was an impulse, an impulse for something I couldn't control. I hate to talk about this, but this was a big part of our relationship, our sexual relationship. I would fuck her relentlessly, because she liked it, and I liked it too. Though I slowly became conscious of the fact that this could have been a form of abuse, as she cut herself, as she wished death upon herself, she would want to have sex daily, where I slowly became deterred to this due to the disgust I felt in supporting such self infliction as I wasn't there to hurt her, though she continued to her herself, to cut herself when I was working. I'd come home, and my reaction would be angry or frustrated with her, or sad at the fact of her self infliction. I felt like everything I did was for nothing, though that thought was impulsive, just as her infliction was impulsive. It almost became something addicting to us, where it would only be led by impulse. Though my further resentment for her, and eventually toward myself. As her emptiness grew, so did mine. I was conscious, but still in pain, and pain consumes all, just as the sadness that I feel now, my mind only calls out to the support of Natalia, someone who's good to me, someone I want to keep, though she knows of my sufferings, but maybe not as much as she should, as they exist, I only need to read about how much emotion I had and have for this individual.