CHRYSALIS

33.

July 19th, 2021

The last entry hurt. I needed a few days to deal with the feelings that resurfaced. It's not easy to talk about that time. It's not easy to relive the hurt that we were both putting each other through, but stubbornness has been passed down through my family for generations, one of the many curses given to me by my blood. I did in fact cry on the subway after writing about it, but it's not the first time.

It's pretty outside today, I'm writing on the balcony. It's hot here though. It's a different kind of heat. I'm sure my therapist is really glad I'm writing about the fucking weather, that's very productive. Excellent job, Jo, you're so good at this. Fuck.

I guess next up on this trip down memory lane is the day we left for tour. It wasn't the worst day, I think there was a false sense of hope that day that we could be normal again.

I certainly crushed that, but we'll save that for another day.

Jo.

"Good morning. Thank you so much for this. Really, I can't thank you enough." I spoke in a quiet, hushed voice as I picked up my things.

"Oh, it's no problem. We have to be here this early for prep anyway, and you know you guys are our favorite customers." She passed me the drink carrier with my latte, a pastry bag, and a grass juice.

"I've missed being here. Not sure how we'll survive without this place for so many months. Oh! And, The cake was excellent, thank her again for making it!" I stood at the counter that I've been at almost every weekend since November and thought about just how badly I'd miss Sunday mornings here.

Even after the tour, I wasn't sure where we'd stand. I had no idea where we stood at the moment either.

When he caught me standing in the doorway last night we just sat there and looked at each other for a minute. His chest was rising and falling rapidly and I knew there were tears still falling down my face, but neither of us said a word.

I finally broke eye contact and looked at the ground, wiped my tears, and looked back at him after a deep breath.

"I'll see you in the morning," was the only thing I said to him before I turned and made my way upstairs.

I didn't sleep at all. I laid there and my mind raced with thoughts, why did he sound so sad? Why that song, did he just feel like stomping my heart into the ground?

I felt lost. I was so glad we would be on the road and traveling, my brain needed the instability so I didn't feel so crazy.

When I got up this morning his bedroom door was still closed. I called the cafe after I slipped out the front door and they were kind enough to make an exception for me.

I'd try to start us off on a good note for whatever our new normal entailed.

It may seem dramatic looking back on it now, that we couldn't just talk things out, but you have to understand that pride and pain go hand in hand and they create a stubbornness that is unrivaled. Neither of us did anything wrong, we just hurt each other.

We were too fragile to withstand the blows that we each delivered that week.

I didn't want to talk about it. I didn't want to hear him say that I hurt him, I didn't want to hear that if I would have just stayed things would be entirely different right now.

It was my fault, and I didn't want to talk about it. I couldn't change it now, I couldn't take it back and I couldn't get the memory of her wet hair that smelled like his shampoo out of my brain.