secrets were made to be shared

Let's keep it positive.
Wait, let's get positive so we can keep it positive.

I did that thing again where I wrote poetry in my head but lost it before I had the chance to commit it to something more permanent than my memory. I need a direct connection from my brain to screen. The paths in between are faulty and inconstant. My fingers make mistakes and the means aren't always there. And I need to let this be known; I want everyone to know.

This.

I moved my head against the cushion and I could smell him. Can't find it when I try; like something caught in peripheral vision. If I move just right then it's there. Can't find it again on purpose though.
I'm tired.

I wrote all these words above two days ago. Last night I had a dream that I rode my bike past Pants' house. I was wearing a sheet as a ghost costume. It kept obstructing my vision. I crouched down so I could go as fast down the hill as possible; as far away from him as I could get. I know why these images appear. Just like I know why I keep reminiscing about our empty sex.
Now I can see the hole of his presence in my life through a mutual friend. How do I escape?
I don't want these dreams and I don't care for the memories. Let's focus on something better. He brings out the crazy in me. He looks so calm but in his eyes is frozen insanity. He knows insanity. He grew up with it and lived it and where is he now in relationship to it?
It doesn't matter!
Another thing that logically I do not want. Another thing that I can't have. It holds no appeal, so why does it leave such trails behind?
It's another thing to bring useless sadness. Nothing positive. I just want to forget that he exists and that he ever existed in my life. I want normalcy. What is normalcy?

Writing it out helps me to process. I can feel a little better as I see how ridiculous these things can be. He was an emotionally abusive asshole and didn't even know it.
I've found what I was actually looking for. I hate to rush the sentiment but it's hard not to when so many pieces fit together. I don't want to substitute one thing for another. I don't want to give Shiny any less than what he deserves. I don't want to give Pants anything. I just want him gone from me.
I suspect he's fucking the aforementioned mutual friend. But it doesn't affect or concern me, right? Logically it doesn't. Why would I care? Is this a trust thing? It doesn't matter anymore. It wouldn't have mattered even when he and I were "together." We shared our past, not much of our present. And he has no future. So why bother?
We have no future. So why bother?
These are the things I must say to remind myself of how life is. How much better my life is. How much more certain my life is. It is. I have the ground beneath my feet again. No more walking on mountain tops. No more clouds in my eyes. I am grounded and gorgeous and I can see where I am going. Oh, it feels so good when I let myself remember to notice.
I struggle. Always.
But right now I struggle to remind myself of all the good in my life. Not the rain outside or my cut hours at work. Not the apparent sociopath from my past that keeps cropping up. He doesn't try to. My brain just naturally wanders to the morbid and perverse. Not depression. How about realizing how long it's been since I felt suicidal? Weeks. How about Shiny? He fits the missing piece from the puzzle. How about gratitude for all the things that didn't fit and therefore did not waste my time? Thank you. How about school? I love it. And my internship? Exciting.
How about my friends?
What about art?
And look, I still write.

Let's get positive. Let's keep it positive. Let's not lose sight of reality, but let's not let the fiction overwhelm us either.
Let's see what's actually there instead of what was or what could be.
Let's be positive.
I could go for something new.