I believe I could pin point every emotional upheaval I have had in my life by the starting of a new journal!
I have always been a very intermittent journal keeper but a consistent hoarder!
With the impending move next month I have started sorting through my notebooks, sketchbooks, journals. The collections of thoughts, ideas, narratives of my life.
Most of the attempts at journals I have begin with some emotional confusion, turmoil, life change.
As interesting as reading over these entries can be, mapping personal progress and all that, it’s also like watching a Greek tragedy at times. Reading the glistening optimism of a fresh start, a new relationship, a blossoming friendship already with the the knowledge of the bitter outcome.
A few particular excerpts stood out as gut wrenching…
My ex, who I did marry, cheated on me with my best friend who was also their ex (complicated relationship triangles should be avoided at all cost!!) I wrote this in my journal after we had only been dating a few months,
“…I feel like I do want to be with K- I know I do…but at the same time I have to keep reminding myself that we haven’t known each other that long and I always feel like K is hiding something. K is always saying that we seem to be in different places. K likes me and says we have chemistry but worries that things are too complicated. What things?! I know I like K, K likes me. What’s with all this “Oh I like you, but I’m confused, I don’t know, but I do want to be with you!” It just doesn’t make sense!
What I didn’t know was that K still had feelings for S after being broken up for a good few years and as soon as we started dating this made S, my friend, jealous and want K back!
It took me a good few years, a marriage and a very painful breakup to really see the bigger picture, to see how much damage this situation ended up doing me. But thankfully I’m now in recovery!
I read through a few entries of happy go lucky, naive optimism fueled by love and K’s increasing ability to lie!
But then it stops. No more journal keeping until the week our marriage ended….
“My heart aches, my eyes are sore and well at the thought of K….well not K but the memory of K. At this moment I am very aware that I have been clinging to the past, our past, not just the bad but also the beautiful, how I felt being held by K, K’s smile, finding love I didn’t know was possible. Most of this was left in Melbourne…or during our first separation…or when I found out about K’s relationship on the side with S….or when K broke off our engagement….”.
Yes. 3 years after the first entries about our relationship, the naive confusion, the positive outlook of love will conquer all, after moving countries, getting married, after everything, I was left feeling pretty empty.
I’m never sure whether to part with these books. When my first relationship ended when I was 15 *oh the heartache of a teenager!* I “disposed” of all photographs, all diaries that mentioned their name, CDs, keepsakes, which for a rather sentimental person is very difficult. And actually I came to regret it, not for nostalgic reasons, but as I dated this person for 2 years….there is a quite substantial part of my teenage years with no evidence. There is like a black hole between the ages of 12 and 16….the more interesting teen years!
So because of this I feel like I should hang onto my books, the sporadic tangents of emotional tangles trying to be woven.