I wrote something
Everything changed after the hospital. Maybe things do happen for a reason. Me asking you to not show up, saved me from a lifelong holocaust. Perhaps seeing me on the bed would've changed you for good? Who knows but I'm glad you didn't comeback. I didn't cry once to see you back again. I am not sure why am I writing this. I moved on but my inner self is trying to still process something that has already happened.
I get hallucinations 2 months after the od, I can't sleep yet I show up for myself. I realized all I have is me, myself. I know you stalk me just to make me feel like you care which you don't but you want to see how I am doing. I am doing great, you can probably notice it from how I look. My relations with my parents got way better because now they finally think I have brains to make the right decision. They don't hate you, neither do I.
I learnt about Søren Kierkegaard, He broke up with his love of the life, because he thought his melancholy and urge to be a writer would clash with his marriage. He purposely hurt her so that she could move on, whilst he himself couldn't bear the pain of hurting her but he had to, seeing her feel terrible because he couldn't try to make it work wouldn't have been a good way to end it. She eventually moved on and he cried in his sleep but despite his melancholy shaped him into the writer he desired to be, he wore the engagement ring she gave for his rest of the life, When he died he left all his belongings to her.
If you are like a normal person you'd think the story ended but if you are a weirdo, you'll ask what happen to the his lover, did she know he was a good person? Yes she saw through his act when he was pretending to hurt her, she tried her best to tell him she is there but he wont budge. Two years after the breakup, she saw him outside a church and simply nodded to him. Kierkegaard wrote in his journal that this affectionate nod crushed him because it proved his plan had failed: "She does not believe that I was a deceiver, she has faith in me."
After his death, Regine outlived him by 50 years and she became a protector of his legacy, sharing her story with biographers and reading his works aloud with her husband. She was buried in the same cemetery as him in Copenhagen.
Even though they couldn't spend those time together, it made me question can love still sustain even if two people aren't together anymore? Is love something that still sustains even if the other person is still alive but just not in your life. Is love understanding that even if you pretend to not care for me deep down I know there's still a place that's aching to hear me laugh. My friends were confused how easily I moved on and I am too but maybe it's the brain that helping me out. I didn't have to kill you in my head just to move on, I moved on knowing you are happy and healthy with someone else.
Regine saved only 31 letters from the inheritance, the rest were declined because of public conflicts. It reminded me of those 3 letters, what happened to them? Is it still under the desk? We can never be Regine or Kierk, but I deserve a Fritz who kept Regine happier than Kierk who left her in despair. She loved Fritz for the life he gave her, and she loved Kierkegaard for the immortality he gave her.
However I don't feel anything, if I do one day I hope I have Fritz who is accepting me for who I am. For Fritz love was accepting Regine was muse to Kierk but he knew she would choose him regardless of how Kierk yearned for her. Fritz is also in the same cemetery as Regine and Kierk.
The point is, Life is too short to wait for a Kierk to change and big enough to meet someone like Fritz. So when I can feel things again after my brain is rewired, I hope it's a Fritz this time. Kierk maybe loved Regine greater than Fritz because his writing were always dedicated to Regine, but Fritz showed up. Actions speak louder. Wishing myself the best and you too and hope I can sleep well after writing this.
Ambiguous grief- Emotional process of grieving someone who is physically alive but psychologically absent.
I didn't do it, guess I didn't love you enough.