it's the place where you weren't aware

There is a stillness inside of me that I can not reach. I don't know what it means. I don't know what it can do. It is a numb patch that will never heal. Steel said, "you've been through a lot in the past decade." I nodded and didn't elaborate because there's a time and a place and sometimes neither can be found.
I dreamt again about my hate. I told my therapist and she said, "why do you think you direct your anger towards her?" Because she knew better. Because she took advantage of a person that was utterly broken. Because she planned it. Because I hate her and I can't stop and I am ashamed.

I said in therapy, "sometimes I feel myself pushing Steel away. Sometimes I want to just get up and run away, screaming." That's normal, apparently. People talk about my hurt, my hurt, my hurt. I thought this was normal. Doesn't everyone get pulverized by someone they love? Isn't everyone crushed at some point? My chest was demolished. My ribs have been patched. Everything else is bandages and stitches and time. Everything else is granules to be expelled so the new parts can grow in. Clean me out. Sweep it away. I am dry and empty and my blood is dust. Sometimes I still forget to feel.

There is the numb part that scares me. It tingles, it shines, it throbs when it rains. Sometimes Steel strokes it and it soothes; sometimes it burns with memory. I cannot unlive what has been done. I cannot unravel the mess. I analyze every word. I see all the meanings behind flippant phrases. I know what you are feeling, but you do not read me with the same cognizance. You know though, you just don't know that you know. If someone killed part of you, you'd understand. You'd open that section. But I don't know how else to to show you. You need trauma to discover yourself. Sometimes that never comes.

There are good parts of my life I'd rather have never discovered if it meant I could have avoided the past eight months. There are so many things I wouldn't have now. I don't think anyone understands the depth of the emotion I felt for ex-otter. The roots have grown through me. The plant has been killed but the dead parts are impossible to extract without causing damage. Why could he uproot me so easily? Why won't I stop dreaming of him?
I want it to be over. Some days it feels like it is. But these rainy days kill me. They get inside and water the parts that shouldn't be alive anymore. Those bits stir. and they grow. and I hurt all over again.

Steel, I don't know how to explain things. I don't need to right now. I need to step back but the thing is, I don't thinkg you'll notice. I'm stepping back inside of myself. Trying to unpack the last of my baggage. I don't need it anymore. You said you would have to teach me an instrument if I was going to live on the bus. So far I've tried to avoid any mention of a future. I know you were kidding but I still thought it over. I can't respond to things like that right now. I can't even joke about it.

Again, I want to end on a positive note. This is good for me, dating Steel. It's good to date someone who is similar to me on a fundamental level (even if he doesn't realize it, apparently) but still different enough to be interesting. I'm curious to see who I am now. I'm curious to see where it goes. I like to wake up next to him. I like the way he kisses me. He's a romantic. I could use that right now.