isolation-g-blog

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Honestly, that weird attitude you started having did trigger some things… But my distance started before (you were right about that) and it wasn’t really about you—not all of it, anyway, It’s not like I’m saying it was your fault or anything.

There was just a lot going on in my head and in my life, stuff that kept weighing on me more and more. And I didn’t want to drag you into it. I’ve never been good at explaining that kind of thing, and say "goodbye" was even harder.

I wish I hadn’t distanced myself, but back then, I really thought it was the best thing for you—not getting caught up in the mess I was dealing with.

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Prequel

The whole “punishment” thing was a joke…

But, what happened after, the reason that kept me away, wasn’t.

Actually, I was really looking forward to going out with you again. I hoped all the stuff that was starting to stress me out would just go away… but it didn’t.

It's just I never got to tell you what was happening.

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Sequel...

I’ve gotten letters before, that's for sure. But I never got yours… And I never managed to hit the call button. That’s how tragic that goodbye was. (Because there wasn’t even one.)

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Thinking out loud

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If your heart no longer races when you see me or hear my name... Congratulations, you’re healed.

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Unpopular opinion: This movie is just beautiful and funny

(It also reminds me of that time I accidentally crashed a car and how much that memory still haunts me)

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Updated Memory

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My cheesy side stopped coming to the surface a long time ago, out of fear of being hurt again.

Actually, there was a time when I used to show affection, give little signs of care, but it wasn’t with the same intensity as before. Deep down, I’d be dying to give someone a handwritten letter or some thoughtful gesture, but the fear that it wouldn’t be appreciated always took over.

To this day, I haven’t written another letter, I haven’t looked for a matching propic, I haven’t made a plushie or crochet gift for anyone. Maybe a drawing for a friend’s birthday is the closest I’ve come to doing something cheesy again.

The last letter I wrote was to someone I spent most of my university years with. I remember the content, every word still feels real when I think about the day I wrote it... That same feeling is what makes me never want to do it again.

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Prelude

Saying all that is important.

For better or worse, I hold onto a lot of details about things that have happened throughout my life. It’s really hard for anyone to gaslight me or convince me that something didn’t happen.

It’s also key to explain that I don’t usually forget people—especially not those I care about or once cared about. Whether it’s because of distance or life simply pulling us in different directions, I always carry the image and memories of those people with me. Even those who’ve hurt me—but that’s mostly just to remind myself of the kind of people I don’t want around anymore.

I ended up distancing myself from a lot of people—mostly for a long time and, honestly, for no real reason other than my own internal chaos. But I haven’t forgotten anyone. At the same time, I didn’t want to disrupt the lives of any friend, either. I was just happy to see them moving forward, always wishing them the best from where I was.

Some of them reached out to me again, in the warmest way, as if no time had passed. They didn’t judge me or push for answers—they just waited until I was ready to explain.

Anyway, that’s the point here.

I carry them with me, and maybe I miss them. But I’m happy for their happiness.

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For about half a year now, I’ve found myself thinking about someone I care very deeply for. He’s a good friend, and he has two kids now. It’s been a long time since we last talked because his partner does set certain limits on his interactions, and honestly, I chose to leave it that way for the sake of his family and because I know it’s important to him to keep things good. But recently, by chance, we ended up playing at the same time and decided to team up like the little rats we are in Fortnite. It was nice. Two of my other friends were there too. We didn’t talk much, but it felt really good to hear from him again and know he’s doing well.

That was it. Afterward, I went to bed, said goodbye, and we haven’t played again since. I miss talking to him. For a while, he helped me through a heartbreak, and I was so excited when I found out he had become a dad. Since we were teenagers, our communication became long-distance because he moved to another city. Back then, we were “together.” It was kind of your typical teenage romance—he was my first boyfriend—and in some ways, he shaped what I’ve looked for in a relationship ever since.

Even after we broke up, we kept talking for a while. Then we drifted apart, only to reconnect later, catching up on all the things that had happened in our lives. At that point, we were just two friends sharing our stories.

And then, we stopped talking again.

But he’s always been someone important to me, and I’ll always wish him all the beautiful things in the world because he deserves it.

If he were reading this, I’d tell him once again how grateful I am that he listened to me and talked with me back then. I’d also thank him for sharing his thoughts and experiences with me. He’s one of the best people to have ever been a part of my life, and that’s why I hold so much affection for him, despite the current distance.

I hope you keep shining like you always have. 💕🦆

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Unpopular opinion

RedNight is really cool 🫰🏻

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At least now, a lot of time has passed… and I never said a single word here.

I could probably say a few things… though it’s also possible I skip some others for one reason or another—either because it’s not really relevant anymore or because it’s still hard for me. It’ll depend on how this flows.(I don’t want to make one massive post with miles of text.)

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For a very, very long time, my mind was a mess.

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It's curious, funny, and sad at the same time.

How some people think that just because you have people around you, you automatically have someone to talk to about your problems, someone to keep you from feeling sad. Like every person you know or talk to suddenly becomes your emotional support. Or that if you’re not shedding rivers of tears, it means you’re someone who doesn’t suffer.

I’ve surrounded myself with people while faking a happiness I don’t feel, just to escape the constant sadness and urge to cry. Because at least that way, I avoid someone asking if something’s wrong. I avoid that awkward moment where I have to say, “No, not really,” and try to explain why. Because it’s really hard to explain something you don’t even understand yourself.I’ve heard and read it so many times: “You’re so lucky to have people to talk to.” It’s the most painful thing… but I never said it hurt. Back then, the pain was bearable… back then.

At least unti--.

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Hola!

Like the song. It's just something to begin with.