Fragments of Realization

Forget an explanation. These have just been sitting inside. It's just not the same to write them down and keep to myself, otherwise I would've written a novel on every one and granted explicit detail. It's not until you share with an undefinable number that it becomes a catharsis, and if it's not cathartic then I might as well not write at all.

To share: No names, no deep context, no special order. I have in my memory moments where I distinctly remember exactly what I realized. The key in each anecdote is that it is a first-time realization, completely original in the context of my life. I realized they've been accumulating, stirring up a rather melancholy state of mind for landlocked periods of time, particularly the past couple weeks. These things just have a way of knocking in the middle of the night.

Remember, without the vagueness, I wouldn't be able to share, and wouldn't be able to mend.
--

When he offered to do what he thought would help me best, I realized I'd never quite fathomed how much he loved me. I could feel the blood thicken.

As I lay there, detached from the bubble that was my life up until that moment, I knew I had checked out. I was floating somewhere else. I realized what I was experiencing was the ultimate realization of living in a nightmare and not knowing when you're going to wake up.

After four and a half years, I asked him if he had one. He was taken aback. In that moment he realized I had changed... and I realized I had changed. I didn't recognize myself.

When he sat down and spoke first, I knew he was sincere. When he trembled so violently and cried just so, I realized he was still just a boy pretending to be a man. One year to the day, and the act that brought it all about still makes it worth it.

I wasn't there to listen to her and receive the message, and it will never be the same because she's no longer a part of it. Sad how you realize how much you mean to someone once it's sorta too late.

You make it so difficult, but for a period you graciously allowed me to realize that I'll always want what I can't have, intangible or not -- and I should just learn to appreciate what's in front of me.

She told me I wouldn't understand until I had my own kids, but I already realize how much I hurt her when I did those spiteful things.

Chances are he could die within the next few months, and I can already feel the pain of not having spent enough time with him... But I've realized that our relationship is more genuine than many.

When he held my hand and cried, I realized the capacity in which he could empathize, and it shook me.

I've realized that I'm not invincible. What he did to me has damaged me, but the damage is not irreversible. But I've realized the healing is going to take a damn long time.

I keep looking back on how someone so far away could make me so happy, and I realize it boils down to one thing: support. Complete and utter mutual support.

Nobody thought of me because I realized they didn't actually know me, and suddenly my new home didn't feel so much like home.

I've realized I'm going to have to turn this tragedy into a tool, and the pain into patience. I didn't realize until recently that it's eating at him on the inside, and I hope it hollows him out.

Sitting outside where we were about to eat, she cried so unbelievably hard. Her tears had never been so dense. She epitomized sadness, and I crumbled too. I realized in that moment how vital it would be for me to conquer. For the both of us.

I've slowly come to realize that her choice not to help only solidifies one thing: that I'm going to have to be for the next victim what she's choosing not to be for me. I just hope the opportunity doesn't arise.

I finally realize they're not lying. They actually believe that I'm strong enough, and for the first time I've realized it's true.

Sometimes I doubt myself, but I never fail to re-realize that what we created was nothing short of a little bit of magic, all stemmed from blissful, teenage naivete.

Our friend's death put us in contact again, and even in that context you were still bitter. It made me realize you deserve the most amazing woman to be your wife.

She listed off things that I couldn't believe she had stored in her memory, much less processed as proof that I'm the kind of person she thinks I am. I had a beautiful and profound realization that my God, I am what she says I am.

When he said those words, the impact of how much I had hurt him came full-frontal and I realized just how much he cares. I also realized he'd forgiven me.

Sometimes I forget that he carries the same burden, only received through a different medium... By me. I realize he's much stronger than I am.

My body couldn't catch up to the speed in which I was processing the news. The hyperventilating lasted so long, I'm so thankful she answered her door to grasp me. When I returned back to my room and breathed once more, I realized they were both really gone.

I realize that I'm going to let Him write me that love story, because I'm not the Author and I can't go ghost writing.

The little things they say, they keep adding up. And with every one, I begin to realize the mark I'm leaving and my existence feels a little bit more worthwhile.

Sometimes it takes looking back to realize that you even had a realization in that moment. That feeling of discomfort, dissatisfaction, disheartening - you couldn't quite pinpoint it just then. Later, you realize that realization has a way of jumping about time, and that's when life becomes chaotic. It becomes complex. Then you reflect once more, and realize that chaos and complexity is the essence of beauty. There's so much of it, everywhere.



I'm starting to realize that at the end of the day, I really don't know much. That's what realization is for.