I discovered something.
Well, I didn't really just discover it, because I have known about it. I just haven't been completely aware of it.
When I am doing any sort of physical activity and I feel like someone is doing a lot better than me, I quickly lose hope and often get extremely cranky.
I throw borderline tantrums.
Now that I am more aware of this, perhaps I can work on it. Or just work out myself more so I can keep up. I am way out of shape, but when I am in shape this doesn't occur as much. I don't get so pouty.
Friday, May 22, 2009
The Clock is Ticking
I'm pretty sure it's been 24 hours since last contact.
I figured I better get used to it.
But what was the point of being in a relationship if you felt like you were single anyway? If you got all of the restrictions and none of the benefits?
Except, the flip side was a broken heart.
I didn't want to be away from him, but time with him was extremely scarce, and getting more scarce. And now I was hearing from him for 24 hours. I hated this.
I was sure if we were strong enough to make it through 2 years apart. I had no car so it would be next to impossible to visit him, factoring in the parents as well. Especially if he moved to Santa Cruz with Nate.
My mother hated Nate.
And to me, it seemed ludicrous that he didn't know where he was going but he still planned to go. Location seemed a critical point. But it's not like he would tell me where he was going anyhow. He would tell other people, while I was standing there. Even though I had asked him and his response was: "nothing is set in stone."
We needed to talk.
And I didn't know if anything would change.
I figured I better get used to it.
But what was the point of being in a relationship if you felt like you were single anyway? If you got all of the restrictions and none of the benefits?
Except, the flip side was a broken heart.
I didn't want to be away from him, but time with him was extremely scarce, and getting more scarce. And now I was hearing from him for 24 hours. I hated this.
I was sure if we were strong enough to make it through 2 years apart. I had no car so it would be next to impossible to visit him, factoring in the parents as well. Especially if he moved to Santa Cruz with Nate.
My mother hated Nate.
And to me, it seemed ludicrous that he didn't know where he was going but he still planned to go. Location seemed a critical point. But it's not like he would tell me where he was going anyhow. He would tell other people, while I was standing there. Even though I had asked him and his response was: "nothing is set in stone."
We needed to talk.
And I didn't know if anything would change.
Monday, May 18, 2009
Recurring Thoughts
He entered my thoughts more often than normal these days.
Maybe it was because it was becoming increasingly possible that by some chance occasion I would see him. I still had no idea if he still worked at Dimple Dell, because it was entirely possible he was a firefighter and didn't work as a lifeguard and swim teacher anymore.
I cringed at the thought of his touch, remembering all too well how shocking it had been, how brazen and shameless he had been, his hands on me. Perhaps I had encouraged him--I didn't want to be a lamb anymore, perfectly innocent and defenseless, unknowing of the world around me. But at the same time he was completely insolent when words left me and I could not express how completely deep the water was for me, and how much it scared me.
That was the past though. Now I just wondered: Would I see him again? And if I did, under what circumstances? I found myself fantasizing about having Max there, flaunting that in a little less than a month I had found a happy, healthy relationship with a man who cared for me. With (by just a tiny bit) more hair than he had! (It was close, you won't believe it.)
Would I see him in Sandy? Would his car pass mine? Would I hike with Max and just happen to run into him and his buddies? Would I see him at work? Did he work there anymore? I found myself entrenched in this morbid curiosity. I just...wanted to prove I had risen above him, that he held no power over me, and that I was better off without him. Was that so bad?
I feared and yet felt indifferent to his judgment, if that made any sense. It would take maybe a week to figure out if he still haunted the building that was Dimple Dell. I would see, I suppose.
I amazed myself as I thought of him. I had been WAY too good for him. And yet I had felt myself struggling to please him, struggling to make him want me. Why had I tried so hard for someone who didn't deserve me? I thought back on his appearance, his manner, his politics, and his personality. I thought of his intelligence. I couldn't help but laugh at all these things. He had dropped out of college, was republican, 26 with barely enough hair to cover his head, was disrespectful to all those around him, especially his mother, and in general, was a loser. What had I been thinking? That he had said he liked me I suppose. This made me want to laugh and cry at the same time.
And I was proud. Because aside from wondering if he was around, I didn't really care if he wanted me back. I could stand tall without him, but I had proven that 9 months ago when I stood up and shut him down, showed him for what he was.
And I was proud of myself for going back, despite how he had wronged me. I had grown.
And the thoughts of him wilted, and would eventually disappear.
Maybe it was because it was becoming increasingly possible that by some chance occasion I would see him. I still had no idea if he still worked at Dimple Dell, because it was entirely possible he was a firefighter and didn't work as a lifeguard and swim teacher anymore.
I cringed at the thought of his touch, remembering all too well how shocking it had been, how brazen and shameless he had been, his hands on me. Perhaps I had encouraged him--I didn't want to be a lamb anymore, perfectly innocent and defenseless, unknowing of the world around me. But at the same time he was completely insolent when words left me and I could not express how completely deep the water was for me, and how much it scared me.
That was the past though. Now I just wondered: Would I see him again? And if I did, under what circumstances? I found myself fantasizing about having Max there, flaunting that in a little less than a month I had found a happy, healthy relationship with a man who cared for me. With (by just a tiny bit) more hair than he had! (It was close, you won't believe it.)
Would I see him in Sandy? Would his car pass mine? Would I hike with Max and just happen to run into him and his buddies? Would I see him at work? Did he work there anymore? I found myself entrenched in this morbid curiosity. I just...wanted to prove I had risen above him, that he held no power over me, and that I was better off without him. Was that so bad?
I feared and yet felt indifferent to his judgment, if that made any sense. It would take maybe a week to figure out if he still haunted the building that was Dimple Dell. I would see, I suppose.
I amazed myself as I thought of him. I had been WAY too good for him. And yet I had felt myself struggling to please him, struggling to make him want me. Why had I tried so hard for someone who didn't deserve me? I thought back on his appearance, his manner, his politics, and his personality. I thought of his intelligence. I couldn't help but laugh at all these things. He had dropped out of college, was republican, 26 with barely enough hair to cover his head, was disrespectful to all those around him, especially his mother, and in general, was a loser. What had I been thinking? That he had said he liked me I suppose. This made me want to laugh and cry at the same time.
And I was proud. Because aside from wondering if he was around, I didn't really care if he wanted me back. I could stand tall without him, but I had proven that 9 months ago when I stood up and shut him down, showed him for what he was.
And I was proud of myself for going back, despite how he had wronged me. I had grown.
And the thoughts of him wilted, and would eventually disappear.
Sunday, May 17, 2009
Deja Vu
How could I hold myself together when so much seemed to be falling apart?
I could be happy, and I tried to hold on to that. But he was leaving for a week. And to me, everything about him leaving reminded me so much of the last time. He had busy that's true, so I shouldn't be so quick to feel skepticism.
I didn't want to feel this slipping through my fingers. But him leaving meant...separation. Time to think without me. Time to "come to his senses" again.
I was afraid for him to leave and already anxiously awaiting his return.
All I could do was hope he would want me still.
I could be happy, and I tried to hold on to that. But he was leaving for a week. And to me, everything about him leaving reminded me so much of the last time. He had busy that's true, so I shouldn't be so quick to feel skepticism.
I didn't want to feel this slipping through my fingers. But him leaving meant...separation. Time to think without me. Time to "come to his senses" again.
I was afraid for him to leave and already anxiously awaiting his return.
All I could do was hope he would want me still.
Saturday, May 16, 2009
Live Longer
Don't be angry don't be angry don't be angry.
That's what I was going through my head for an opening.
To me, it didn't feel like such an enormous coincidence that she was obsessed with dollhouse and he had been interested. That she liked my status. It made my gut churn, that's what it did.
But I couldn't say anything.
I have not trusted him. I don't know why. I don't really see it as not trusting him. It's more, I feel hurt and I want him to tell me I am imagining things, but tell me the truth. Ease my worries. It's been...almost a year since they broke up? I think...and she still looms. It's so hard for me. If I see him I am fine. Alone missing him, seeing her I am not.
I didn't want him to be angry. I wanted myself to trust him. But guys...just don't have a happy ending for me, as has been so clearly evidenced by all my encounters. I hate that I just keep waiting for the other shoe to drop, but I can't help it. It won't go away.
I don't want to cry.
But I'm afraid I will.
That's what I was going through my head for an opening.
To me, it didn't feel like such an enormous coincidence that she was obsessed with dollhouse and he had been interested. That she liked my status. It made my gut churn, that's what it did.
But I couldn't say anything.
I have not trusted him. I don't know why. I don't really see it as not trusting him. It's more, I feel hurt and I want him to tell me I am imagining things, but tell me the truth. Ease my worries. It's been...almost a year since they broke up? I think...and she still looms. It's so hard for me. If I see him I am fine. Alone missing him, seeing her I am not.
I didn't want him to be angry. I wanted myself to trust him. But guys...just don't have a happy ending for me, as has been so clearly evidenced by all my encounters. I hate that I just keep waiting for the other shoe to drop, but I can't help it. It won't go away.
I don't want to cry.
But I'm afraid I will.
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Life's Like an Hourglass Glued to the Table
Did you ever feel so incredibly numb?
It was the most dangerous moment in a car I had ever experienced. And I didn't care.
I felt so unaware of life. My mind went completely blank. I almost forgot where I was. I could have crashed and died. And I was struggling to care. Everything was just so...blank. I struggled--completely fought to stay alert and alive. But the moments slipped away from me.
I wanted to be alive to my life. I wanted to feel passion and love. But in this moment, this one dangerous moment, I felt nothing. Not love, not passion, not disappointment, not anger, not anything.
I was fast I was slow I braked harshly I turned sharply. Nothing woke me from my daze.
I tripped over words to feel.
Then a song came on.
It was the most dangerous moment in a car I had ever experienced. And I didn't care.
I felt so unaware of life. My mind went completely blank. I almost forgot where I was. I could have crashed and died. And I was struggling to care. Everything was just so...blank. I struggled--completely fought to stay alert and alive. But the moments slipped away from me.
I wanted to be alive to my life. I wanted to feel passion and love. But in this moment, this one dangerous moment, I felt nothing. Not love, not passion, not disappointment, not anger, not anything.
I was fast I was slow I braked harshly I turned sharply. Nothing woke me from my daze.
I tripped over words to feel.
Then a song came on.
Sunday, May 10, 2009
Another day older, and closer to death
Breathe.
You can do it.
Breathe.
What was my problem anyway? That he didn't text me enough? That his life was going on while mine felt like it had crunched to a standstill?
I felt lonely. Forgotten. Less important. Meaningless. Just another obligation of time to fill in his life that he didn't need. Why? Why did I let myself get manic about this? Why did I sit crying in my bed while I typed the words to push him out? I didn't want to push him out at all. I just wanted him to pay attention. Was this all a dangerous plot for attention? Maybe. Or maybe I just didn't want to feel like the pathetic one. He had thought we weren't healthy. Well. I didn't want to show any signs of unhealthy affection. But I also couldn't deny how I felt. Even if it was manic. That just made things worse. That just made me cry.
I didn't know what the solution was, and I knew he wouldn't either. Which made me wonder why we were still together, even though I couldn't bring myself to let go. I also knew I was being manic. Certain times of year make me manic. Moving in, moving out, finals, grades...staying at my parents' house. It all stressed me out, and contributed to the madness. I didn't know how to tell him I was always like this, and I needed attention he couldn't give, that I couldn't ask him to give.
And worst of all, I love him. And he doesn't love me back.
You can do it.
Breathe.
What was my problem anyway? That he didn't text me enough? That his life was going on while mine felt like it had crunched to a standstill?
I felt lonely. Forgotten. Less important. Meaningless. Just another obligation of time to fill in his life that he didn't need. Why? Why did I let myself get manic about this? Why did I sit crying in my bed while I typed the words to push him out? I didn't want to push him out at all. I just wanted him to pay attention. Was this all a dangerous plot for attention? Maybe. Or maybe I just didn't want to feel like the pathetic one. He had thought we weren't healthy. Well. I didn't want to show any signs of unhealthy affection. But I also couldn't deny how I felt. Even if it was manic. That just made things worse. That just made me cry.
I didn't know what the solution was, and I knew he wouldn't either. Which made me wonder why we were still together, even though I couldn't bring myself to let go. I also knew I was being manic. Certain times of year make me manic. Moving in, moving out, finals, grades...staying at my parents' house. It all stressed me out, and contributed to the madness. I didn't know how to tell him I was always like this, and I needed attention he couldn't give, that I couldn't ask him to give.
And worst of all, I love him. And he doesn't love me back.
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