i fight to not think of her, the aromas she left behind, the way she made me live music, the way she made me smell the honeysuckle for the first time.

and then i fight to not think about the stuff i have to do tomorrow, or the things i've lost that i need to find.

i fight to not think of my parents dying. of my sister dying. of my grandpa dying, my grandma. friends. i fight to not relive that moment when kate hit the car.

i fight memories. i fight memories of who i was. what i was. i was an asshole. abusive. angry. full of rage. hatred. a loner. i had a temper. i once punched my sister in the throat.

no one knows that, no one outside of my family.

ive killed myself. i went from one extreme to the other, always afraid of falling back, always afraid of returning to my assholedom. i found a savior in the girl.

there are a few things as sweet to the soul as a savior. and she is mine.

before i met her, for a brief period, i couldn't act out. i would just take things. internalize them. beat myself up. stay locked up in my room, in my books, asleep, to insure that i wouldn't hurt anyone. when people said something i disagreed with i just got quiet.

i didnt exist.

and then i found this place. this spot inside me that i always hoped existed. i laughed unburdeningly for the first time. and i cried, clearing out my system.

but at night after my eyes close i fight myself. i know the true me. i fight that.

for years ive fought that battle, and i've lost occasionally. but ive always rebounded enough to make myself hope, never believe always hope, that that wasnt the real me. that the real me is the one who laughs and makes others laughs.

i cant deny it any longer. maybe itll be nice to close my eyes and just let it wash over me. maybe ill be able to sleep dead now. maybe that place to the left and below of my heart wont hurt so much from holding it in. maybe ill forget i forgot for a while.

i once had a dream where my soul was stolen from me and i didnt die. i didnt really care, either.

the difference now is im awake. and i care.

maybe one day ill be able to close my eyes and i won't have to fight the memories of knowing what a soul is like. i'll have forgotten.

im scared.