day 10715: stoic silence
I lied. I’m sorry. I’ve lied to everyone who's asked me how I’m doing. I say I’m fine, I’ll survive this, and it’s no big deal, everyone goes through this. I’m not fine. Sometimes, yes, most times even, but not all the time. And it IS a big deal. It would be unfair to Bacon for me to actually believe otherwise.
There are moments when I come close to picking up the phone, or close to typing out a message… a lot of moments. Occasionally, it’s more than just wondering how he’s doing, what he’s doing, how he’s feeling, or wondering about things left unsaid. But these moments pass, because I force them to.
I have to.
Some call it strength. They write to me telling me how strong a woman I am. I’m not, really. They don’t see my hands shake, or the tears that well up in my eyes out of the blue. It’s not strength. It’s a coping mechanism. If other people believe I’m fine, they’ll stop asking, and then I’ll stop answering, and I’ll stop thinking about things. Then I can move on.
And I have to move on so that someday we can be friends again. Hopefully soon. Bacon is very special (not in a short-bus kind of way) and definitely someone that I very much want to keep in my life.