My elbows only bend one way

I'm not really sure what my intent is with starting this post. I've got a gut full of feelings that I'm not quite sure what to do with. I loved having you here even if it was for only a short time. I hate having you gone. I'm terrified about "things". I wish I had better words to describe it than that, but such does not seem to be the case. Smashing Pumpkins' song Beautiful just came up on random play. I'm haphazardly typing this out before I take off for work, and it seems to be doing me some good. As I talk, as I open up and just let all this flow out for the world to see, I can feel it all slowly draining out of me. I've got pictures of you and old journals here. I just flipped open the green one and it landed on the day that my mom found the letter I was sending to Greaves and the day that you found out about the ring. I was scared at that time too. I was scared to talk to my parents. I was scared to talk to your parents. I was scared that I'd scare you off. Some things I'm always scared of. Some things the scaredness wanes. I'm waning in my scaredness. I'm feeling better. I'm finding my feet again. I'm feeling like me again.