'Til I Run Out Of Words

Written By Christine Gleim - Christine is a recent college graduate trying to find her place in the world. First and foremost she is a scientist, but she loves to relax and create through writing. She can be found with her nose in a mystery or science fiction novel, obsessing over a show on Netflix, or out on a long walk. Twitter: just_3_words

My best friend says that I should stop writing about him.  Maybe she’s right, I’ll admit that.  She also says that no one likes him and heavily implied that no one wants to hear about him anymore.  Maybe she’s right about that too.  However maybe that’s why I am still writing.  I know that no one wants to hear about him anymore, but I still “hear about him” whenever I try to sleep at night.  I write about him because I would feel bad subjecting my friends to the same stories and feelings over and over again.  I write about him because he is still a very real part of my life even though he walked away.  Maybe I write about him because it’s the only way I can process my feelings.  

 I have never been very good with feelings.  I struggle to show them to others, even those who are close to me.  I have lived most of my life with a very Vulcan approach to emotions.  I hide them because I fear they will cloud my judgement and because I am afraid to look weak.  The truth is I am just afraid to be vulnerable.  I have reached a point in my life where I wish I could share how I feel, show how I feel but I have been hiding it away for so long that I don’t know how.  And when it comes to romance, I am even more afraid to let my feelings show because when I let that secret out things always seem to go wrong.  That is where writing comes in.

    By writing I can let my broken heart bleed out onto the page in words.  Words flow like the tears I don’t know how to cry.  Words on paper and text on screen allow me to tell the things that I am too afraid to speak out loud.  Journaling and writing keeps me from becoming trapped within my thoughts, feelings, and memories.  It keeps me sane.  In writing I find a medium in which I can be heard.  It is a safe way to break.

    Through ink on a page, I can say the things I never got to say to him.  I can write the things I wish I had said or hadn’t said.  I can be honest about how much I miss him and how waking up to a world without him breaks my heart.  In writing I can admit that I didn’t just fall for him, I fell in love with him. I can relive the memories of us that can still make me smile when I despair.  I can admit that I still hope he’ll come back.  And even though it might not seem like it, maybe this is my way of getting over him too.  Maybe I am trying to write him out of my heart.  So I will continue to write down the stories of us, the stories of him, that are in my heart until I run out of words.