I mentioned before someone said something to me that really made me think, and suddenly it made a new voice inside me. It would talk all day, but this evening it died. I suppose a week in it's company was better than no week at all.
It would say to me, that I would be ok. That I could do it. That living and getting on would be easier, the dark room wouldn't be so black, the noise wouldn't get unbearable and that I could wake up and things just would be ok.
But realistically, of course, all good things come to an end. It left me alone this evening. As it has left me, if it comes back do I welcome it? Or should I tune it out and start listening to me for a change? You know, the real me. But it is difficult to be the real me when being just me is lonely. When you are just yourself with no chitter chatter, there is only your own noise. I don't make a lot of noise.
Whilst writing this I think I realise that whilst I may mourn for the voice, it may or may not come back, but if it doesn't I will deal with it. That is life after all. It has left me, again not good enough for it to stay, so fuck it.
I'm not very good at dealing with rejection, after all I had made plans for the voice to stay. You search and search for things that are like yourself, but when yourself is dysfunctional anyway, you have got to expect that you cannot live with the things you hear are like yourself.
I hope the voice never comes back. I listened to it all week and it was just a selfish ghost, reminding me that everything is fleeting. Except me. I'm not fleeting. I'm still bloody here.
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