It's the first kidney stone I've had since living with you.
I realized after moving out that they had much less to do with my diet and much more to do with stress. Living with you hurt me in a lot of ways, especially at the end.
And, I'm not saying it's all you, obviously. I made a habit of piling my plate so full that I wouldn't have too see past the mountain of things to do to the work of healing and rebuilding myself. Our third roommate, the fleas, transitioning from college to working full time. That was all stress.
But, in my last few months of living with you, I was getting stones regularly. Something that had never happened before. And I'd had those busy-body habits most of my life.
It's heartbreaking, you know? Because I really did love you. I really did want to be your friend forever. I really would've lived with you again.
But, I was hurting myself.
I don't think you ever noticed it. I want to think you didn't know you were hurting me.
The first time I really cried after leaving was when I found out that you weren't narcoleptic. I'd always imagined that you couldn't get out of bed and do it yourself. That it had to be me by default, not by your choice.
I'm not so certain anymore.
That's not to say I don't believe you can't be chronically ill and struggle to get out of bed in another way. Of course you can.
But I was passing fucking kidney stones the whole goddamn time, and I still carried myself and then part of you, too.
Today was the first day I've taken off sick at my job. I really haven't felt sick much at all--a rarity for me in through the winter months. The latest stone came from stress, I invited my grandparents over after not speaking to them for three years.
I was so scared and nervous and just out of my mind. I did everything I could to distract myself, but I felt terrible. I knew I had to do it, before August rolled around. Sooner rather than later. I'd promised.
It makes sense that they're coming stressed me out enough to give me a stone. It makes sense that I've had more nightmares keeping me up recently.
What doesn't make sense is that they handled everything better than you did.
I spoke the truth to them. Not about everything, but enough. They don't need to know my whole story. We just have to find neutral ground. For my sister. For her daughter.
It hurt, and I cried so much the whole time, and they didn't even remember some of the hardest parts of my life. They tried to argue they had done more to face my father when we were kids, to get him to be a better dad, but they claimed he was out of their control. Claimed that he still is.
We're not on friendly terms. I doubt we ever will be, but they took it all so much better than you. They recognized I had my own life, and that I wouldn't be taking abuse or staying silent about it any longer. I'd felt my ted-talk communication skills kick in, and I'd expressed understanding for their side, too. It would be hard to accept your son is a shit father.
They can't deny it much anymore. He's scheduled a cruise for when his granddaughter is due.
Things haven't been easy lately. Hell, I've met so many of my darkest fears head on since the end of last year. My world has flipped inside-out, upside-down. But, I've been pushing through it okay. I'm so much stronger than I thought I was.
It breaks my heart again after meeting with my grandparents to know there was an option for a different reality. You could've been there, beside me, carrying our own loads but lifting each other all the while. We could've grown closer. We could still be friends.
I miss you a lot. I'm not afraid to say that. I can hold the contradictive love and fear in my hands. Do you still have nuance, even though she detests it?
Sometimes, I wish you were still around. I have so many stories to tell you, so many questions to ask. Sometimes I wish my therapist would tell me that I had done something wrong so I could grovel at your knees and beg for forgiveness, beg to start again.
I'll always miss you. But, you weren't healthy for me. And I know you aren't safe for my loved ones now.
I have to live with missing you. And the fears you've left behind.
At least there are fewer kidney stones.
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