Just stop

I was doing ok today, even with everything, even with sitting around for hours in B&N waiting for things that didn't happen and beating myself up about how stupid I'm being.  Read a good article about surviving trauma, thought about it a lot, positive.  Even with the constant feeling of being on the edge of tears, I was still ok.

And then I started working on the Toshiba laptop, and there they were.  All the history, all the bookmarks.  Suicide sites.  How to buy helium in balloon kits.  Everything.  I thought it was gone, thought I'd cleared all that out before.  And there it is again.

I want to know when these things will stop hitting me.  When will I stop finding landmines?  When will a picture of an English landscape or someone saying a few words of Greek not pierce my heart?  I am not trying to dwell.  In fact, the opposite... I am trying to be present, trying not to think about these things, associate these things.  But this fine edge of grief is stabbing at my heart all the time.

Michael... I miss you.  I don't miss all the horrors, and I don't know if I can ever stop being angry, pointless though it is.  Or heartbroken.  But there is so much I miss about you, and I just miss my companion, my friend.  So much past.  So, so much past.

It is not the present.  There is no point in thinking about how it was, because it has nothing to do with now.  Now is just now.  I can't live with the memories; they will kill me.  But how to I move on?

There's nothing for me right now, just the motions of going through this life.  Nothing that makes me happy, not that I can have right now anyway.  I want something new, need it desperately.  But that new thing... all I know to look for is a person, and that's the wrong thing right now.  Just the wrong thing, and I know it.  Too needy, too desperate.  Sometimes I think that I can see how to move past that... but then it all vanishes, smoke and mirrors and more heartbreak.