I love 9PM. The scent is genuinely amazing soft, masculine, comforting. It hurts that I had to part ways with it. I hate that I’d hate it now. If I smelled it on someone today, I could probably puke. And it’s not even about the fragrance itself… it’s beautiful, I promise. It’s the nostalgia that kills me.
Almost everything in my life right now feels nostalgic. Like I’ve smelled it before. Touched it before. Cried these tears before. As if I’m living an afterlife do you hear what I’m saying?
I’ve healed my wounds at least the ones within my control. But there’s one stubborn wound that lingers. An awesome soul told me, “time heals all wounds.” He’s repeated it to me twice this week. It makes perfect sense, until it doesn’t. Still, I’m sitting with it.
My heart is healed. And yet, it’s exhausted.
I love who I’ve become. But I also hate some of the parts that came with becoming her. Everything exists in duality inside me right now. Warm, then cold. Strong, then tired.
And I can’t help but ask, why would someone draw pleasure from breaking another person’s soul? How is this logical. I break you into pieces, then give you hope, then keep toying with your emotions and when I see you growing stronger, it irritates me, so I double down just to crack you again? And after all that, I still say, “Let’s maintain a professional relationship”? Like… really? That’s exactly what I’ve been doing but you keep poking me. My God.
What is wrong with human beings really?
And what is this strange space… feeling healed and broken at the same time? Numb yet manifesting good things? Cold, but hopeful?
Out of everything else I’ll turn into, I don’t ever want to live as someone who inflicts this kind of torment on another soul. I deeply hope that
no one will ever sit stuck in life trying to heal from the pain I inflicted in their souls.
It’s confusing, this duality. This warmth and coldness. This healing and exhaustion.
And through it all, I still hate that I love 9PM. The scent.
Cheers
Shadow to my light. 