this won’t make sense to you, but it does to me
Sometimes I think I should start mashing my blog posts into 2. I write sections, excerpts here and there that aren’t enough to warrant a blog post of their own, but that I then don’t know what to do with afterwards. Maybe I should just start putting sections together – two different songs that somehow make their way into part of the same thing. Like Nights by Frank Ocean, or Forever Boy and Knew Better by Ariana Grande.
I put my rings back on today, for the first time in almost 2 months. These rings are the Jonghyun rings I mentioned in this post, and I never take them off. Until about 6 weeks ago, when I did. They felt too heavy and like they didn’t fit my hands anymore, so I removed them. Something just didn’t feel right. I left them on the side and they’ve been there ever since, until this morning when I saw them again and my heart was telling me to put them back on, because it was okay now. I was okay now.
I feel like I kind of drifted for a bit, and it’s dangerous when you drift away from the things that keep you sane. I did, for a few weeks. I don’t know why. I stopped listening and I stopped watching. Not because I’d lost interest, and not even because the novelty had worn off necessarily…but I just, didn’t feel like it. My heart didn’t feel like it. It was like I was glazing over again and losing touch with everything that made me happy. I stopped listening to it in the car because it wasn’t sitting right with me, and I guess I just zoned out.
Some went on a break, some of them left, some of them were made to leave. It felt quiet for a while. The people that made me feel like myself were gone and so was I, even though they were coming back, but I didn’t know if I would, and the things that made me feel the way I wanted to feel didn’t have the same effect on me when I’d already experienced them once before anyway, so what was I to do.
But I started looking at them again, I started to see them again, all over, for the first time. I started to see how other people saw them, I started to see it through their vision, which in turn only further projected and developed mine. I was evolving. I was falling in love with that vision all over again, in new ways and old. I came back to the start and the novelties, I realised, were not novelties, because when you love something as much as that, the feeling never goes away, it never wears off, it just takes a while sometimes to see it with a fresh pair of eyes. You get used to that beauty and that feeling, and you forget how special it is, you forget what drew you into it in the first place, you forget who they were when you first saw them because now you know them so well, and you forget the facts. You forget the things that are right there in front of you, because you no longer see them. You have forgotten what it feels like to look at them with such eyes.
But Autumn and Winter are coming back around – my favourite months. I love the gloomy skies and the rain, the cold air. That was what everything felt like when all of this started for me, and I feel like it’s all coming back to me again now. I’m grateful. I’ve longed to get that feeling back for a while now, though I told myself I probably never would because it was a rose tinted thing where all the things I thought were novelties were still there and I was remembering things better than how they really were, I was romanticising it as I do with everything. I wanted it all back, the cosiness and the gloom, in the best way. When I wanted to be someone else somewhere else with someone else, but I understood I’d never get that feeling again. Until now, when I think it’s coming back and maybe it will every year if this is how the seasons go. I feel like I’m more myself now. Maybe this is a thing I can have more than once.
I started decorating. Re-decorating. The walls, the shelves, everything. I started rearranging and re-placing, I made it new. I saw what I had and fell in love with it all over again. I remembered what it was and why it was there, and I was reminded of that feeling of who I was when I first felt it. Who it made me want to be and who I could still become – who I was still yet to. I put their faces up in front of me and I saw art, in every form. I saw art beyond what could possibly ever be human, I saw something the world does not yet have a word for. I saw forever.
Over the past few days, maybe week, I came back. I came back to myself again. I was found. It suddenly all just started dropping into place again, like the Universe had just now decided my happiness was allowed to resume. I don’t know what it was. I guess it was them. They came back and in turn, that brought me back, and that brought me back to the things and people that I hadn’t been as into as I was before, during those last few weeks. It was like I opened my eyes again and my heart was like oh, hi. There you are. It’s nice to have you back. It’s nice to see you again.
So this morning when I was getting ready, I saw those rings, and I put them back on, and suddenly they fit again. And then I got into the car and put my music on shuffle and their voices were the only ones that played. I’m not kidding. How is that? How does something happen like that? It’s fate. It’s some higher force, it must be. Everything just…fit. Like it was ready, like everything was happening at exactly the right time, the way it was supposed to. When I pulled up their voices were still playing, and I sat there and had a moment with them, just listening, like they were in the car with me. All of them. 5. Even if there were only 4 seats. It felt normal and comforting, like they were singing to me whilst I was getting my things together. There’s hundreds of songs on that playlist of mine, yet they were the only ones to make an appearance that day. And they were the right songs, too. Not the upbeat ones. The sad ones that make me think of him and wonder, about all of them. How is that? Tell me, because I couldn’t tell you. I’ll leave it up to you to decide.
Driving home yesterday I was thinking about how I’m special, and not in the conceited sense. I feel like I understand the things that need to be understood, in the world. I thought about how I write and how I talk, and I was grateful for myself because that’s special, and it was never taught. I was never told to be that way or taught to be that way, I just am. Naturally. And that’s special. I thought, you’re special you know, Chlo. You may be a lot of things, good or bad, but you’re special. Whatever that is. Whatever it may mean.
I write to myself in code. Maybe it’s one you can decipher, maybe not. Sometimes I forget what I’m even talking about myself because I don’t specify, and then I wonder who I’m writing to, or for. No one. Everyone. I’m writing because I can, because I am. I know that nothing I’ve said will make sense to anybody, but it makes sense to me, and I managed to talk in depth about everything I wanted to say without giving anything away at all. I’m good at that, good at hiding. I wonder why.
“People who read are hiders. They hide who they are. People who hide don’t always like who they are.”
All my love,