Eight

Today, I’m writing this from a cafe on the pier. J and I walked this pier on our second date where we joked about stealing life rings from the boats for a dress up party my flat was having. It was overcast that day, like today is, and I can’t stop my mind from going back and reliving the happiness and excitement that I felt from being with him.

There’s a thin line between love and hate. I hate that there’s so much in this city that reminds me of him but at the same time, I love those memories we built here.

I’ve been trying to implement the strategies my counsellor suggested, thinking of those memories objectively and prying them apart to separate the things that I miss, from him. So instead of thinking right now that I miss him and those times, instead thinking that I miss dating and the excitement of new relationships, and of the discovery of someone new.

But it’s so much easier said than done.

I just want to sit and reminisce on those times, feel that happiness again, even if it’s only in my mind. That is my default and it’s so much more effort to push myself to curb my thoughts into healthier patterns. I know that it’s necessary though, and I have to remind myself of the truth that one day it won’t feel like this anymore, even if I don’t believe it right now.

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