I Want To Be Happy

Something happened 10 years ago. I was in our bedroom, and I can’t really remember what I was doing before. I guess I was hanging out with Julie. She was complaining about something and I think I was trying to explain…that it didn’t matter? Something like that. Then she said she was evil and I gave her a confused look and said something like “What? No you’re not.” She said that she was the devil and I kept denying it. She started to disrobe and I was uncomfortable; I told her to stop. After that, things got fuzzy. Maybe it was more of the same, her saying she was the devil and sauntering around the room. But like I said it got fuzzy. The last thing I fully remember is her saying “Jane, I was just kidding…” When I think of that memory, there are times when I think that the fuzziness wasn’t there. She sauntered for five minutes and that’s it. At times, I feel like the fuzzy part is something that I am repressing. It lasts forever suspended in air as I spend days and nights trying to fill the void. Tonight alone, I felt like there was something that absolutely happened, and now I am not so sure. Should I spend my time worrying, or should grieve? Are those my only choices? I guess not. I was so happy when I felt like I knew exactly what happened, then I lost the thought and my stomach turned. I want to be happy. Can’t I just give in to that?


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