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I · ALWAYS · CATCH · THE · CLOCK
it's 11:11 and now you want to talk
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IT SPEAKS ANOTHER WORLD TO ME
He said I love you tonight, and oh, I love him too. I want so much to be self-contained and unanchored, but when I allow myself to open up and let go, it's amazing. Love scares me, it makes me want to pack my bags and buy a plane ticket, but maybe that's how it should be. It's exhilarating, unexpected, terrifying. But he's worth it. Also, I was promoted at work a couple days ago, so I'll be managing our Seattle's Best cafe now. I'm the youngest manager in our store, but everyone is so supportive, and I'm so excited to know they trust me to handle this. I've only been back there for about a month now, and I'm happy, I enjoy what I do. I'm making more money than I did as a supervisor at Starbucks, which is also pretty wonderful. It's more responsibility, but I'm absolutely up for it. God knows I have enough coffee knowledge to last me a lifetime. |
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YOU GET WHAT YOU PAY FOR, BUT I JUST HAD NO INTENTION OF LIVING THIS WAY
there's things I remember and things I forget
I miss you, I guess that I should
but what would you change if you could?
I miss him so much sometimes, it feels like a suckerpunch to the stomach. I never really expect it, because I feel like I've begun moving on with my life with someone else, why should this even matter? There are so many things I wish I could apologize for, and so many things I wish I could thank him for. My new relationship is wonderful, but it's these awful moments when my past creeps up behind me and reminds me of what I left behind, for this new relationship. Sometimes I just wonder if I could've done more, tried a little harder, been a little less selfish. I'm learning from my mistakes, true, but it just feels so staggering sometimes. |
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MIRRORS SIDEWAYS, WHO CARES WHAT’S BEHIND
I love that I'm dating a man who is the exact same brand of dork as I am, and will lie in bed with me when I'm hungover and waiting to get ready for work in the morning, and cheer me up by doing a dead-on impression of Gollum.
And, I've finally let go of my eating-alone hangup. I went to my favorite thai place right after work, and totally enjoyed the novelty of being able to have calamari and pad thai on a completely spontaneous impulse. |
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I'M A TINY PENNY ROLLING UP THE WALLS INSIDE
I'm not sure what to think about hearts drawn onto the inside of his fogged car windows, but not by me... maybe earlier in the day? Week? It's funny that these hearts have appeared before, also not drawn by me. Or him? I don't know. Do I look for answers in strange places, and assign much more (negative) meaning to them than they deserve? Or do I simply keep my eyes wide open and refuse to be led into something potentially heartbreaking? I feel like there's a weird vibe, and my instinct is to run. I feel the nearness of an ex, and I want to run. I feel anything but the unattainable perfection that doesn't even exist, and I want to run. I'm like every jaded, cliche female in every badly written chick lit novel. My internal need for discord makes me so very tired of myself sometimes. I've been down this road before, and I'm alert and ready. But perhaps not, because I do feel confusion, and that confusion seems to have taken the form of... happiness. Disconcerting. I want so badly to trust, but it doesn't come naturally to me, ever. Does being on guard allow you to see things as they really are, or does it allow you to see what you suspect you might see? Look for trouble and it'll surely come along in some form. I want to be clear-eyed, that's all. And it doesn't seem remotely possible without some kind of mental snag. My friend Casey is planning to hitchhike to Alaska, a la Into the Wild. I'm beginning to seriously believe I should join him, and get the hell away from my life for awhile. Relationship sabotage is my chosen form of armor, and I prepare to do battle by way of running away before the battle has even begun. Well, I can't do that. This method has never been satisfying, and it sure as hell isn't foolproof. It's basically one of the most cowardly moves you can pull in a relationship. Instead, own up to your feelings, how else will you ever make any real progress? |
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IF YOU ALWAYS KNEW THE TRUTH, THEN THE WORLD WOULD SPIN AROUND YOU
It's been four months, just about. And five weeks since we last spoke. Time slips by in the same way it always does for ex-boyfriends once that final thread of connectivity is cut. Three and a half years were rendered null and void within the two months leading up to the five weeks. That's a lot of math there, all the numbers and days and formulas, just to get to where I am right now. Last night I was lying in bed, wondering if my own mind contributed to our demise much more than anything he ever did. But then I'm left wondering if it's like the old chicken-or-the-egg riddle, where you don't know which came first and brought the other into being. Was I crazy because of him? Or was I crazy in spite of him? Last year was one of the worst years of my entire life, because it was the most hopeless, dreary impasse of any relationship I've ever had, and we spent nearly a whole year trying to trudge through it. And then we gave up. I remember the day it happened, because I was the one who finally threw in the towel. I was driving to the doctor's after work and received a text from him, saying I love you! I read it, and just could not face it without feeling guilty. That exclamation point is what sealed it for me. It seemed happy, and basically the very embodiment of what I was no longer able to feel. We broke up over the phone, at 5pm in the afternoon. I never wanted it that way, but he refused to let it happen in person. I think maybe he just wanted it to be over with too. We didn't even want to look at each other anymore. Text messages were a very large source of sadness during that last year. The ones I sent to him, the ones he never bothered to return. Ones that seemed to become "lost" en route during certain times of day. During 2007, I didn't sleep very well. In fact, I rarely slept. I spent a lot of late night and early mornings either lying wide awake in bed, thinking and obsessing and worrying, or driving around listening to the radio and hoping to somehow quiet my thoughts. I usually just drove to Jason's house, and sometimes sat outside in my car. I needed so badly to be close to him, but at the same time I knew that even if I was in his arms, I'd still feel that horrible loneliness. Perhaps even more. I sat in my car and cried. I hated everything about myself that could've contributed to the situation at hand, and I blamed myself for ruining the relationship I never imagined actually ending. But it was, it really was. Occasionally I'd get out of my car and walk over to his house, and if the light in his computer room was on and he was there, I'd stand by the window and feel paralyzed, unable to make a move and get his attention. This was the man I once imagined marrying and having children with, and now I couldn't even tap on the window. I turned away and went back to my car, and then back to my house. Still alone, but also in some completely irrational way I'd feel a bit better. I just needed to be near him, just to touch base with the idea that hey, we were still part of one another's lives. Even if he already felt like a ghost, he was in fact still five minutes from me. Talking to him would've made it worse. It made every single glaring truth about our relationship stand out in stark relief. This was better, it was just easier most of the time. However, once in awhile, I would go inside. I'd creep upstairs and get into bed with him, put my arms around him and whisper I missed you, I needed to be with you and then I'd lie awake and try not to think about the times when we lived together and would lie in bed talking for hours, having so much fun doing one of the most mundane daily activities, falling asleep. Sometimes I would sit on the edge of the bed and wake him up, interrogate him about whatever real or imagined problem that was bedeviling me at home. We'd argue, we'd scream. I felt completely out of my mind with terror, and he would tell me that, yes, I was fucking insane. I knew that arguing certainly wasn't going to make it better, especially at 4am, but I needed reassurance that everything was okay, even if it obviously was not. I needed him to tell me that he wasn't moving on and leaving me behind. Without a fight, he wouldn't tell me any of this. I guess he knew it was mostly a lie anyway, just like I knew when he wanted assurance from me. I'd try to avoid giving it, because I felt guilty. I spent months and months fearful of the end, because I knew it was coming quickly. I wanted it to end, but I also didn't. I wanted what we used to have, and that was impossible. I wanted to be happy. I wanted to be stable. I wanted the old Jason, the one who quite possibly never existed outside of my own mind. I wanted someone else, someone I could start over again with and hopefully get it right. I wanted whatever I did not currently have. Now I do have someone else, and he's wonderful. And I'm happy. But lately, within the past week or so, I've been thinking about Jason. Perhaps this is yet another step in the letting go process, where you can remember the good times and be thankful you knew someone, and was so close to them. But it hurts a lot too. I can't help but find myself sometimes facing a completely random memory of a happier time, and just thinking why? why couldn't this work like we both thought it would? I was so sure of him, for so long. I was so convinced of us, it took far longer to untangle myself from those beliefs, longer than I want to admit. It scares me to realize that sort of certainty can come to absolutely nothing in the end. I want to give myself fully to my new relationship, but it frightens me. I think I'm falling in love with my new boyfriend, but my past is tugging at my sleeve lately, and I want so badly to reconcile myself to it. I wish we could be in each other's lives as we are now, I hope that someday we can reach that point. For all the bad, there was also so much good. I hope he knows that. I hope he knows I never took it lightly, the decisions I had to make from December to February. I hope he knows that it was never easy, and never clear. Still, I wonder. Maybe I always will. |
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THAT'S FUNNY, SMART, AND GREAT
He's so much like the kind of man Jason never was, so much like myself that I feel more like myself when we're together. I also feel like I'm falling in love, and it's so deeply terrifying that I'm almost scared to take another step. Is this what he wants as well? At first I wanted only to be alone, and was taken aback by his sudden appearance in my life, and his persistence. But then it clicked, all at once. I was fine, I was ready, I was open. Perhaps I was so prepared to feel nothing that any attachment on my part seems unwieldy and overwhelming. But if we're on the same page here, then it'll be alright to acknowledge these feelings and integrate them into my life. It's so unexpected, I just don't want to be like Charlie Brown and his booby trapped football. I want to assure him, I can absolutely function on a normal level, I don't usually feel like the child who's lost sight of their parent at the grocery store. |
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OH GIRL THAT FEELING OF SAFETY YOU PRIZE, WELL IT COMES AT A HARD HARD PRICE
Sometimes I'm scared to feel any real emotion. Sometimes I'm more scared not to. I've learned the hard way that relationships need to cause you pain sometimes, so you know your heart is still involved. That goes three ways: the beginning, the middle, and the end. This is the beginning, and every single time it gets harder. Every end leaves me terrified of making another mistake, wasting another handful of years on a man I will more than likely never really speak to again. You give so much of yourself to someone over the period of a relationship, and 99% of those someones will eventually disappear from your life altogether. What's even the point? It's all blind faith, and it gets more difficult the older I become and the more failed relationships I have under my belt. I want to forget everything and just jump in with this guy. On some level, I want to drown. But I also want to maintain control over my feelings, and that doesn't seem possible if I'm drowning. In or out, I can never choose. I usually end up doing well and making progress, and then sabotaging everything with a few quick maneuvers. We've only been seeing each other for just over a month, and we've only begun using the terms "boyfriend" and "girlfriend" within the past week. It's so new, and so scary to me. I don't want to hurt him and I don't want him to hurt me, I can't help but keep one hand on the door, secretly. I'm okay. I can stop this, I don't need it. I don't need it, but I do want it right now. I'm trying to breathe. And relax. And have fun. It's not so easy, but I guess that's what makes relationships worth your time and attention in the first place... possibility, good and bad. |
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CAUSE I AM LATELY, LONELY
Well, the handshaking still mystifies me, although at least this time he used it as a way to pull me closer and kiss my cheek too. Cute. Or weird. Probably both, but you know I like that combination anyway. Also, my boyfriend and I broke up. I ended it, he was understandably angry. It needed to happen, we have our own completely separate lives and our relationship was such a tiny little footnote, I didn't see much point... we both deserve better. I still love and care for him, but I miss being in love. You need a spark, and we lost that a long time ago. |
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WELL YOU MAY BE THE TRIGGER, I WILL HOLD THE SMOKING GUN
Dear Band Boy, Hey! What sort of lameo romantic comedy are you living in, huh? From the very second you sprinted up to me at the mall while I was on my lunch break, introducing yourself and asking me where I worked, how old I was, and did I maybe want to see your band play that weekend? That was all very cute, but weird. So I admit, I pulled a vanishing act and never came to your show. And then we avoided one another for over a month, especially after my friend/coworker decided to tease you about that incident and then suggested you write me a crazy love letter to win my heart. You were embarrassed, and ostensibly chose to forgo your grande Americanos for awhile. I guess the caffeine withdrawal was just too much, because here you are again, being Mr. Awkward and doing weird shit like shaking my hand to say hello. What?! My coworkers gave me some grief about that, because I'd been so reluctant and asked you "What? Why do you want my hand?" before finally cooperating. Jesus Christ! Handshaking. What guy does that outside of the aforementioned cheesy romcom? Of course I was spooked. However, you probably owe your awkward technique some kind of thanks, because you do have my full attention. Damn you Band Boy! You can be touching a whole lot more than just my hands, you know. Besides, can't you tell that behind my distantly amused exterior is a chick in need of some serious stalking? Get to it. |
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AND THERE GOES MY RULE NO. 2
I am not too sure where he's coming from. I want to say something... but I won't. He told me to re-read The Alchemist. He always does. What am I missing here? He won't say, he just tells me to read the book again. I feel like maybe I get it, but mostly not. Really, I get the whole do what makes you happy, follow the signs, etc, we've been through that. But he keeps hinting at something else, and I'm not sure. He also told me I have faith that you'll figure this out! I'd like to. |
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This is from MySpace, where I posted it the same night it happened. I was angry, ya'll. I am still angry, but also hurting all over as well. My boss sent me home a bit early today, because she said she could tell just looking at me that I was definitely none too comfortable. I feel stiff, and awkward and just... achy. It sucks. This whole situation is wreaking serious havoc on my emotions right now. I have so much to do tomorrow, including going to the police station after work so I can pick up this woman's insurance info (if she even has it). I went Saturday and they said they had nothing for me yet. What the hell? I'm just ready to burst into flames at this point. None of this is my fault and yet, my entire life is being turned upside down. ( long. and bitter. ) The (lately) ever present Casey sent me an email suggesting You should quit your job and this couldn't happen. Oh dear, how I would love to quit my job, sell my car and move out to Slackerland with him, alas, I probably can't. He's been bothering me for the better part of this year to do just that, but I always resist. Maybe I should've listened to him when he first brought this to my attention, things might be easier. However... maybe I just need a different car. One that doesn't seem to have a sign on it visible only to bad drivers, begging Hit me, please. I'm tiny, shiny and bright red. Can you really resist beating the shit out of me? But I like my car. It's the first truly adult purchase I ever made, completely on my own. It's wholly mine and has never belonged to anyone else. It's only two years old and is just not built to fight like a man. Basically, it's Ralph Wigum. You can see my concern here. |
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SWEETHEART, BITTERHEART... NOW I CAN'T TELL YOU APART
Florida was great. Hot and humid, but still pretty great. We saw alligators and manatees in their natural habitat, and to city folk like us, that's akin to some sort of religious experience. We took lots of photos, which I posted on my Facebook last night (if you have Facebook, look me up & friend me: Denise Barkauskas). The thing about vacations, is that despite the bickery, immature trap Jason and I usually fall into several times during our time away, we also get closer. I come home feeling like we've somehow caught up to one another, because our everyday life here is not always so conductive to closeness. We have our own friends and lives and though we talk on the phone everyday and see one another at least on weekends, we're very rarely together for any uninterrupted time. We used to live together, basically but not officially, and once we stopped that, things very quickly divided. Which can be good, of course, we're our own people and do not really need another person to live our lives, but it's also a hell of a lot less romantic and, well, couple-y. We seem like friends, very often. Maybe that's good too, but being reminded every once in awhile that we are a lot more than plain ol buddies is a good thing as well. Yesterday, one of my friends asked how my trip was, and then added "Wait! Let me see your left hand!" Everyone seemed to believe this trip was a devious device Jason was using in order to plan a surprise engagement. They are very fiercely against my getting engaged, probably because most of my friends are just not into domestic complacency, and don't think I'm in the right mindset or place in my life for it either. And I agree. I've done it before, at nineteen years old, and it made me realize I may not be ready for that level of commitment for a long while, it's simply not something I can choose to do without years and years and years of thought. But I didn't really think it was an engagement vacation, so I didn't worry. I laughed, I was amused, and I waggled my thankfully-bare hand at my friend. Lately I do feel like I'm changing my way of thinking when it comes to relationships and real life. I'm trying to let go of people and ideas that are obviously not helping my maturity any. I just read their random emails & even more random text messages and smile. I always miss them, I enjoy knowing they still think of me, but it is what it is. And I'm just dong my best to walk past and not keep interrupting my real life for romanticized bullshit anymore. I'll do my best with what I have, and if it works, hey, awesome. And if it doesn't, okay, I'll get through. I like knowing I won't die or cease to exist if something derails, and I think that's good enough for right now. I can put forth some effort again and see what happens. --- Work is also going well. I like my new position, and I like that I have more responsibility. Christmas is coming soon, and our holiday promotions begin next week. You know... red cups, gingerbread lattes, cranberry bliss bars & Christmas Blend coffee (which is really really good this year, it tastes almost like almonds). I like Thanksgiving and Christmas, and I always find that my most vivid (and happiest) work memories take place during November & December. Everything is more interesting, more dramatic, and more magical. I'm so happy these two months are finally here again. |
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COMMON SENSE, WHAT IS THAT? I HAVE NO ACQUAINTANCE.
FACT: I'm pretty lazy sometimes. Especially with Livejournal, it seems. So I wrote this hours & hours ago on MySpace, and then decided to copy & paste it here so all you (big losers) who don't have MySpace can still read & enjoy the document of my blatant stupidity. Don't lie, you know how much you wanted to read this.Ps. I am finished packing now, I did it right after I got home from work. Better yet, I unexpectedly came across my silver sequined espadrilles. You know, Ft. Lauderdale just seems like a really good place to wear 'em. --- I'm leaving for Florida tomorrow and so far, this is how much packing I've got done: NONE. I've only begun to have the most nebulous thoughts about the subject, in fact. I hought, "should I MAYBE try to do something about this situation soon? or should I wait until ten minutes before I need to leave for the airport? yeah, ten minutes is good." But seriously, this is bad. I'm going to work soon, and although it's a ridiculously short four hour shift, 9pm will give me a half hour to race around the mall and maybe buy a couple ugly shirts that're more Florida-weather appropriate. Sure, they'll be summer clearance and eye meltingly unflattering, but they're not sweaters or hoodies and that's just fine. I will wear awesome pants and skirts and make do looking half fashionable. I should also buy a couple books, so I have something to do on the plane, other than pick fights with Jason. On vacation, we tend to take several steps back maturity-wise, and will bicker like a couple of smartmouth kids unless something can hold our attention long enough to quell any bloodthirsty urges. And I don't really think a half hour will give me enough time to do all this, but I'll try. Because this is what I get for waiting until the VERY LAST MINUTE. We get back Tuesday night, and then I have to be at work at 7am to open on Halloween. which reminds me, sometime after we get back, I'll need to go out and find some sort of Halloween costume so I don't look like the big grumpy spoilsport at work. I had grand plans a couple weeks ago, but now some cat ears and painted on whiskers are looking mighty good. Holiday cheer is not my strong point, because I am far too dedicated to a life of procrastination, and the two don't really go together. I'd honestly enjoy wearing my pajamas to work, so maybe I can go as a 'Chichester teenager' and rock some pajama bottoms and a tshirt. And messy hair and possibly even bedroom slippers. That sounds pretty sweet. I'll take lots of pictures this weekend, we'll be going to Key West and the Everglades, that kind of thing. I hate humidity and heat, but I can never pass up some time out of Pennsylvania. The cold, wet weather we're currently having isn't exactly hard to leave, either. |
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I WAS ON THE TRACKS WHEN THE GATES CAME DOWN
I went to the Phillies games yesterday afternoon with my (now former) boss and another one of my friends from LP Starbucks. The Phillies lost, those poor bastards, but what else can you expect from a Philadelphia team? Get in the playoffs and then inevitably choke. But it was fun, I'm glad I'm still friends with all my old coworkers. I'll be covering a couple shifts back there in a couple weeks, too, which will be nice. I miss that tiny little store, it's so different from the one I work in now. I have a cold. Goddamn. It's way too early in the season for this kind of nonsense. |
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OH TAKE ME BACK TO THE START
In The Alchemist, there's a reason given to explain why people don't always follow their hearts and do what they believe will make them happiest... because we're afraid of disappointment, and sometimes it's easier to convince yourself of your own disinterest than to give in to your heart. Emotion is very rarely practical, and there's certainly a much larger margin for failure. Those are not good odds, no matter the prize. Sometimes, it's difficult to excel in apathy... but so is trying and still not getting out alive, heart intact. However, self preservation is not always a conscious effort on your part: "We, their hearts, speak more and more softly. We never stop speaking out, but we begin to hope that our words won't be heard: we don't want people to suffer because they don't follow their hearts.""Why don't people's hearts tell them to continue to follow their dreams?" the boy asked the alchemist. "Because that's what makes a heart suffer most, and hearts don't like to suffer." Sad but true. Though, I suppose I have followed my reckless, thoughtless heart quite a few times in the recent past. As for the outcome... who knows. Would I follow it again? For the right reason... person... maybe. Probably. |
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ARE BRITNEY & PANTS MORTAL ENEMIES NOW OR SOMETHING?
Britney Spears is ridiculous. Sometimes, she's so ridiculous that it honestly just pisses me off, because how can someone live in their own little world so much that they leave the house NOT WEARING PANTS? On a regular basis? Why doesn't anyone who works for her find a gentle way of suggesting some pants? Or a skirt? Anything. I do not get it, and it makes my head ache. ( looka here! may burn your eyes though. ) Oh Britney! Pants are your friend! After two babies, your body is not exactly BFF with anything that short. And what about the hat? AND THE BOOTS. Oh my god does she really always wear those ugly boots with everything?! |
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YES I AM NERDY ENOUGH TO POSSIBLY CRY... MAYBE ON THE RE-READ
I just copied this from a bulletin I posted on MySpace... because I'm lazy...I finished The Deathly Hallows a few hours ago... WOW. Jason asked me "ooh are you gonna cry?" when I was telling him about the last chapter... MAYBE. The Prince's Tale certainly got me pretty close to tears. It was a really good book, and a great ending for the series. I hope the next two movies do it justice. I'm working at 8am tomorrow... goddamn is it seriously almost 11pm Sunday already? I feel like I was just at Borders, braving the crazy crowd with my blue wristband and looking in awe at the dude dressed as a werewolf... with a FURRY FACE and all. This weekend was way too fast, all the Harry Potter Drama making it one big blur. I have some serious "bank issues" tomorrow to deal with too... ew. Imma be paying some crazy fees unless I can work some magic, and that makes me sad. Goddamn real world! I need an Elder Wand too. --- I don't know how many of you have even heard of Tegan and Sara, but they are amazing & wonderful and have been for years and years now. MySpace is showing some love and you can listen to their entire new album, The Con. I've been listening to them for a very long time now, and I recommend ANYTHING by them, but especially their earlier work, like This Business of Art and Under Feet Like Ours. They're twin sisters and can write songs like WHAT, so go listen to the new album and be a-m-a-z-e-d. |
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LIKE IT WAS FOUR MINUTES AGO
I think I'll see Order of the Phoenix this weekend, because I am far too tired to do so tonight. I'm also alone tonight, and Harry Potter just doesn't strike me as being much fun if you go solo on opening night. I'm re-reading The Half-Blood Prince as well, cause my dorky ass will most certainly be waiting for my copy of The Deathly Hallows July 21st, at midnight. Yes I am going out for it, ALONE though, because my friends all suck and don't GET why this book HAS TO BE BOUGHT as soon as it can be. I was working at Borders for book 6, and I wish I was this time too. I planned to, and the manager at the Borders I worked in for the holidays last year said he'd be happy to have me back, but then I found out my transfer at Starbucks is a done deal, and that threw me off. I'm moving to a location opening closer to me, which means no more soul sucking highway commute, but oh my god. I'm going to miss my wonderful co-workers so much! They're all saying how sad they are, how they'll miss me and how weird it'll be not working with me anymore. I know! I'll probably still cover shifts there sometimes if someone needs me to, and I know I'll keep in touch with several people, but argh. I didn't really want to transfer, it was only a maybe, but the new store needs supervisors, and that's what I'll be. I know it'll be easier to adjust to my promotion with a bunch of strangers, when everyone's getting their footing, but I can't help but feel a little bummed. Sigh. You know what's strange? When someone - whose name begins with "c" and ends with "y" ... GUESS WHO - you think is more or less oblivious to you unless you are actually in the same room, when this person is not so unaware, because they do the oddest things that you never hear about unless someone tells you. Someone says You know, he has pictures of you on his Facebook... What? I remember the pictures in question, when she described them, but I had no idea he thought enough of them to post anywhere, they were so silly and random and kinda dopey. Even I don't have them. And well, I guess I miss him sometimes, which infuriates me. But at least I know he isn't exactly saying Denise who? just yet, either. But still, if he's not going to keep in touch when he's off wandering the country, he needs to just stop this undercover stuff. Seriously. |
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THE LONELY NIGHTS DIVIDE YOU IN TWO
I just wrote a really long letter that I will most likely never give to the person I wrote it for. I'm almost tempted now to burn it, because having it in my possession makes me feel sad. It's a sad letter, but maybe necessary. I hate feeling like this, the uncertainty fucks with my mind like nothing else. A lot of the time, I feel like I'm going slowly crazy, with thoughts that seem pretty fucking divorced from reality if I try to look at them with unbiased eyes. I come to conclusions that only have legs if I search everything for clues, right down to the tone of someone's voice or the way they lay next to me in bed. I shake words and actions upside down for every possible hidden agenda, and doubtlessly I can find one, no matter how flimsy. But I'm also a hypocrite, and this is depressing even further. What am I doing to make things better? Really? Showing up and putting on a half-assed performance, hoping it'll be believable enough? Wouldn't it be easier NOT to show up in that case? But I tried that already, and it definitely didn't work. Jesus Christ! I would've become a nun if I'd known this shit was awaiting me, or maybe gotten into some weepy emo songwriting. |
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I CAN'T BRING MYSELF TO SAY IT'S MY OWN ADVICE I NEED
How do you fix something when you don't have the slightest clue as to what's actually wrong with it? Or, more importantly, how can you be completely sure that there is something wrong to begin with? Just, what the fuck is wrong with this picture? The harder I try to get a grip on it, the less I understand it. I don't even know where to start... but after almost three years, that is an especially hurtful way to feel. Maybe because I already know his answer, and I don't believe it for a second. I just need to know. Anything, everything, something. We talked on the phone for an hour tonight - about the stupidest most trivial things - and towards the middle of it I realized something with a blinding clarity: I had absolutely no idea who I was speaking to, who I was, or even what the fuck was really being said. Two strangers, certainly not the same two people who met in 2004 and fell in love with such an intensely bright spark that it had to be right, that they were one another's The One, and there were simply no questions about it. But, this conversation, it was so cruel and cold and impossible to take at face value. We talked about looking up toys on Ebay that we'd had as kids... then about video games... and then about a million other insignificant things... and I felt my heart ache the entire time, because we were both scarcely disguising our mutual dislike of one another and it was horribly obvious. How can two people talk about childhood toys and still make it feel like a knife in the heart? It just feels terminal, waiting time until it's over. We can't even make the effort to discuss what's really wrong, because we already know it's hopeless. This uncertainty. I just can't. But I don't know. |
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aera's journal