As a child I had these videos that my father had made for me before he left that I used to watch over and over again. Something about reliving the good times through those home videos made me feel better about the mess that I grew up in.
They soothed me. I loved listening to his voice in the background of the tapes. Especially when I hadn't seen or heard from him in a while. He very rarely was on the videos because he was always behind the camera, but I loved his presence. It made me feel like he was still there with me, or like I still knew him. I liked that I had proof that he once loved us.
He filmed bigger life events like my early birthdays and holidays, but my favorite tapes were those of just everyday life. He would just watch my mom and I go about doing random things. Most of the time we were unaware he was there and he would just talk to the camera quietly. My mom eventually took the videos away from me, she claimed that dwelling on the past was what was depressing me.
I now do the same thing, but with memories rather than videos. Unfortunately, no one can take those or make them go away. My vivid memories replay themselves in my mind to the point of exhaustion.
Old memories and new, creep into my brain. They haunt me. They are like little phantoms that wrap themselves around the background of everything I do. Twisted into the fabrication of everything I am, I dwell on the past, the present, and my expectations. I get this homesick feeling, despite being home. I feel like I want to go, get out and do something, but I don't have the energy or motivation to do so. I feel terribly alone, despite being right next to other people, people who are good for me, and who love me.
I crave what is destroying me. I crave who is destroying me. Much like those old tapes. I need his presence much like I needed to hear my fathers voice as a child. I hate that he just disappeared, but I hate more that I cannot stop dwelling on it, and replaying it over and over again in my mind, still trying to figure out what I missed.
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