Reminisce: Dear O,

December 26th, 2014

December 26th, 2014

          "I wish I had a camera so that I could capture some of these moments that all I can do to remember them is trust my mind (not entirely reliable) and write them down. Christmas day was exactly how I imagined it with O; we didn't do a damn thing all day. Just us, the entire world around us blanketed in snow while it was just us. The whiteness around us made her stand out; her dark brown hair and eyes. She herself has always been pale, but she looked perfect with the snow falling all around her. After getting used to the snow, she can't seem to stay out of it. It no longer has the essence of danger lingering around her, as though I'm hunting her down. It's good to see her overcome certain things, it gives me hope that I will too.

            I have come to terms with my past, I know there is nothing I can change or do to rewrite it. More often now, when I remember something gruesome, I don't panic anymore. Writing in the other journals has become a habit I couldn't break even if I wanted to; it is almost as if writing them down actualizes them, forces me to address them, and then I can move on from it. Of course, some are worse than others; just three days ago I was a mess because of one. O came home as I was on my knees, clutching my head in my hands. She dropped everything as she crossed over to me, and before she could even crouch down to console me, I had my arms wrapped around her, my head pressed against her stomach. She ran her fingers through my hair until I relaxed, and then when I was calm, she sat down beside me and waited until I could speak. I didn't tell her what I remembered, she never asks because she knows I'll tell her if I am comfortable with it. I rarely am.

          That's what the other journals are for. These ones, they remind me of how utterly lost I would be with out her. I say that a lot, but it's because it is true."