Recovering from this is like recovering from third-degree burns. Every time something touches me it hurts like hell, it’s going to take a fucking long time to heal, and there’s going to be a shit ton of scar tissue left over.
This weekend was certainly a struggle. At first I was upset that I couldn’t go on the annual Memorial Day weekend camping trip. I hoped with all my might that you would have a horrible time, whether it be from relentless thunderstorms and rain, daily hangovers (with lots of puking, of course), or drama due to misconstrued gossip or some other bullshit.
But you know what? I’m not that bummed anymore. I got to have an amazing weekend filled with family and new friends, beach lounging, cake eating, uncontrollable laughing, and relaxing to the max-ing.
So what if all your friends are going to talk about this weekend for the rest of the year? That just means that I have too many awesome experiences to reflect upon than to remember just one single weekend.
Yes, it still hurt from time to time. I’d find myself wondering what you and everyone were up to at the moment I was thinking about you, whether you all even thought about me or missed me. And yes, I do still hope that you were miserable. But my happiness and satisfaction with this weekend did not and do not depend on your misery.
It’s been 11 days since we cut off all communication. The burns are still raw, and my skin splinters almost as soon as it seals itself. But the pain lessens every day.
And I know that some day, someone will think my scars are beautiful.