hand in mine, into your icy blues

There’s this one song, called Catastrophe and the Cure by Explosions in the Sky, that just reminds me of that night. As the song intensifies I can just picture before me the movements and the actions of that night, the dark that wasn’t dark enough, the warmth that wasn’t warm enough. Listening to it, I go through the emotions again… excitement, and fright, the backdrop an all-encompassing feeling of trust.

And while there’s no regret involved, it certainly crosses my mind quite a lot. But why wouldn’t it? It happened so unexpectedly, and yet like Mr. Freeman would say, it was a sort of self-fulfilling prophecy. It was going to happen, so it did. And yet, after all this thinking, I still can’t be sure of how I feel. The only thing I know is what I’m not, and I’m not sad, and I’m not regretful. I honestly feel a little indifferent about the whole thing, and that sort of worries me. Should I be more reactionary? Should I be mad? Should I talk about it more? Who should I tell or talk to about it?

I think what the problem is really, is that under normal circumstances I base my reactions to something on how I expect other people would react, or how they do react. For instance, I specifically remember thinking sometimes, after something has happened to me, that “I should be angry, but I’m not.” Because I don’t necessarily feel the need to react to every little thing. But because this is a big thing, and because it’s something I can’t compare with other people’s precedents, I’m sort of lost. But I guess that’s okay with me, because it’s really not a big deal anyway.

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