I know I'm not even in a relationship, I've never been in a relationship, and my love life has been non-existent for far too long. But... I think I finally understand why some people stay in relationships where things break down, where things are dysfunctional more than anything else, where things are so rocky it would almost seem like relief to give up, or where, a lot of the time, everything is just terrible. You live for the good things. And no matter how bad it may get, the good things overshadow the bad things, even if the bad things are far more numerous. Which is shit, no matter which way you turn it, but at least I kind of understand now why I've been putting myself through hell, and wanting to stay close to him even though it hurts.
I somehow brought myself to believe that it's worth it. That the standing by, unable to do or say anything, the pointless caring, the wanting of someone who is impossible to reach, the conflicting emotions, and the rejection are all worth it. It's all worth it because at the end of the day, he'll smile and talk to me, and make me believe that I can live with it. He'll make me believe it's not such a hurdle, after all. That I won't go home and feel like a complete, pathetic loser. Which is why, I suppose, feeling things for other people can be so dangerous, and why people call it 'putting yourself out there'. Because if the other person doesn't put themselves out there too, you're left hanging by yourself with nobody to catch you when you inevitably fall. Which comes back to the small, good things blinding you to the reality of the situation.
I guess there's nothing to be done but to wait it out. I know that one day, I'll read back over this and laugh, because what is so important to me now won't mean jackshit. One day I'll laugh at my own idiocy, and wonder why I spent so much time and energy on this guy. But today's not that day. Thursday's going to be a bitch, next Monday will be equally shit, but after that... I won't see him much. I'll have time to put myself back together and move on. Or at least, that's the plan.
Monday, May 23, 2011
Monday, May 16, 2011
I Hope You Don't Mind, Hope You Don't Mind...
...that I put down in words... how wonderful life is now you're in the world.
It's different. It's unexpected, it's not what I'm used to, and I don't know really what to do about it. Because for the first time, there is nothing I CAN do. There's no sliver of hope, and no benefit of the doubt. It's the first time that, even when faced with an absolute prospect, and even though I know, first hand, that it is not going to work, I've persevered. And fuck, I don't know why.
So after I told him, it was pure relief for a few sweet weeks. I slipped back into liking him, but it was liking him without all of the loserly side effects, like the pining and the whinging and the wishing and the hoping, so... it was more me just liking him as a person. Which was fine. I felt as though I could take it or leave it. And now... well, I had one-on-one time with him for the first time in a while, and... one minute it was all fine and friendly, and the next minute we were standing really close, and he was looking right at me, and shit got fucking out of control. It was like... all these thoughts and feelings or whatever the fuck they were that I thought I would never have to deal with again came rushing back to the surface. Seriously. What the FUCK.
It's so, so stupid. Because there is literally no way forward. There is nothing beyond this point. There is no way for me to justify feeling anything at all for him anymore. I got my damn closure, and in the past that was enough. I am actually the biggest fucking moron in the world. Is he really that great? Am I actually that masochistic? I don't understand. I always say guys are fuckwits, but... well, girls can be pretty damn stupid, too.
It's different. It's unexpected, it's not what I'm used to, and I don't know really what to do about it. Because for the first time, there is nothing I CAN do. There's no sliver of hope, and no benefit of the doubt. It's the first time that, even when faced with an absolute prospect, and even though I know, first hand, that it is not going to work, I've persevered. And fuck, I don't know why.
So after I told him, it was pure relief for a few sweet weeks. I slipped back into liking him, but it was liking him without all of the loserly side effects, like the pining and the whinging and the wishing and the hoping, so... it was more me just liking him as a person. Which was fine. I felt as though I could take it or leave it. And now... well, I had one-on-one time with him for the first time in a while, and... one minute it was all fine and friendly, and the next minute we were standing really close, and he was looking right at me, and shit got fucking out of control. It was like... all these thoughts and feelings or whatever the fuck they were that I thought I would never have to deal with again came rushing back to the surface. Seriously. What the FUCK.
It's so, so stupid. Because there is literally no way forward. There is nothing beyond this point. There is no way for me to justify feeling anything at all for him anymore. I got my damn closure, and in the past that was enough. I am actually the biggest fucking moron in the world. Is he really that great? Am I actually that masochistic? I don't understand. I always say guys are fuckwits, but... well, girls can be pretty damn stupid, too.
Saturday, April 16, 2011
I Don't Want To Wait For Our Lives To Be Over.
I neglected to mention this before... I told him. I got the response I thought I'd get [and I appreciate that he didn't actually shut me down in a blatant and horrible way]. And now I can finally, finally forget him. Every other time I've pulled a stunt like this, I've woken up the next day feeling like I made a monumental mistake. Not this time. Because he was very sweet about it, and I just really needed to get it off my chest. The whole 'healing process' is well underway, and I don't think about him, I don't worry about him, I don't care if he gets together with the Singaporean girl. I had forgotten what it was like to not care; it is so refreshing. And it's about goddamn time.
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Twenty Thousand Tears I've Cried.
Why is it that the one person I would have happily taken a bullet for not see me in the same way? How is that fair? And why does it always have to turn out this way? I knew that it was coming, don't get me wrong, but I guess it's just a little sad that for nearly 2 years I tried to get closer to this guy, tried to know him better, felt happy every time he smiled, spent more time than I should have thinking about him, and wondering if I had a shot in hell. And now it's completely redundant. I don't know why I keep doing this to myself. I know it's not meant to always be this way, but at the same time, this is all I've ever experienced. So what the fuck do I know about how it is or isn't meant to be when I don't have a single, positive shred of criteria to compare anything against?
I've had one night stands with guys I cared about, but who didn't care about me. I've seen a perfectly good friendship [bordering on something else] torn to shreds. I've had crushes on guys who turned out to be complete, undeniable, unbelievable douchebags. I've liked guys who, in all honesty, would not have cared if I lived or died. And I've been on dates with a guy who turned out to be a self confessed polygamist. Is it so much to ask that things just work out one time? I'm not sure whether to stand in one, self preserving place, or to keep on trudging through all the heartache and disappointment until I find something good. Because as much as I enjoy my independence, and not having my feelings and life linked almost inextricably with that of somebody else, there are times when I don't want to be alone. But in the end, it's so much harder to find someone to not be alone with than to keep silent in solitude.
I've had one night stands with guys I cared about, but who didn't care about me. I've seen a perfectly good friendship [bordering on something else] torn to shreds. I've had crushes on guys who turned out to be complete, undeniable, unbelievable douchebags. I've liked guys who, in all honesty, would not have cared if I lived or died. And I've been on dates with a guy who turned out to be a self confessed polygamist. Is it so much to ask that things just work out one time? I'm not sure whether to stand in one, self preserving place, or to keep on trudging through all the heartache and disappointment until I find something good. Because as much as I enjoy my independence, and not having my feelings and life linked almost inextricably with that of somebody else, there are times when I don't want to be alone. But in the end, it's so much harder to find someone to not be alone with than to keep silent in solitude.
Monday, April 4, 2011
Everything Is Falling, And I Don't Know Where To Land.
Yep. I should definitely just shoot myself in the foot or something. I have no doubts that it would be less painful, melodrama be damned.
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Falling To Pieces.
Because I'll never be able to say this in person...
Over the past year and a half, I've liked other guys. I've been on a couple 'dates', and they all ended disastrously. I've liked, and I've confessed, and I've lost, and yet I still keep coming back to him. And I mean... we're not super compatible. We come from completely different backgrounds. He's not that tall. He has a slight fob accent. He's never been in nor sought out a relationship. Yet for some reason, I persist in liking him. It's fruitless; a complete dead end. It's never going to go anywhere. He's clearly not interested. I'm not his type, if he even has a type. So why the fuck can't I let it go?
Maybe I'm a specific kind of masochist. Because truly, liking someone when the feeling is unreturned is like looking through one-way glass. You can see the other person through it, but no matter what you do, or what you say, nothing is going to make them see you. And technically speaking, they could flip that switch to turn the light on and see through to the other side, but they either don't need or don't want to. So basically you're left standing behind a barrier that's never going to give way, unless the other person chooses to let it [which they never will]. It's an unreachable, impossible goal. Guess that's why they call it a dream.
So... I can't say I'm going to walk away, because I've tried that. And I can't say that I'll find someone else to like, forget about him, or not care about it. Because I've tried all of those, too, and they don't work. I don't know what to do. I want closure without awkwardness. But of course, that's never what happens. So. What now?
Over the past year and a half, I've liked other guys. I've been on a couple 'dates', and they all ended disastrously. I've liked, and I've confessed, and I've lost, and yet I still keep coming back to him. And I mean... we're not super compatible. We come from completely different backgrounds. He's not that tall. He has a slight fob accent. He's never been in nor sought out a relationship. Yet for some reason, I persist in liking him. It's fruitless; a complete dead end. It's never going to go anywhere. He's clearly not interested. I'm not his type, if he even has a type. So why the fuck can't I let it go?
Maybe I'm a specific kind of masochist. Because truly, liking someone when the feeling is unreturned is like looking through one-way glass. You can see the other person through it, but no matter what you do, or what you say, nothing is going to make them see you. And technically speaking, they could flip that switch to turn the light on and see through to the other side, but they either don't need or don't want to. So basically you're left standing behind a barrier that's never going to give way, unless the other person chooses to let it [which they never will]. It's an unreachable, impossible goal. Guess that's why they call it a dream.
So... I can't say I'm going to walk away, because I've tried that. And I can't say that I'll find someone else to like, forget about him, or not care about it. Because I've tried all of those, too, and they don't work. I don't know what to do. I want closure without awkwardness. But of course, that's never what happens. So. What now?
Saturday, March 26, 2011
Every Memory Of Looking Out The Front Door...
I found my diary that I started near the beginning of year 12. It doesn't feel that long ago, but it simultaneously feels like a lifetime has passed. My 17 year old self was pretty dumb. But I had my moments xD
-----
03/04/08
[These were/are my priorities in life, in no particular order].
-making money
-having fun
-friends
-establishing myself
-keeping contact with people like [insert names]. I.e. those that I'm scared I'll leave behind.
-not failing school.
-living.
-----
02/11/08
... my parents are assholes. My mother's a bitch, my father's a bastard, and together they make the perfect couple. [LOL. I didn't put this in because it's true. I put it in because it's immature and hilarious]
-----
26/09/09
Dear Diary,
I liked it better when... It didn't feel pathetic to cry.
It wasn't bad to be impulsive.
Money didn't decide everything.
It was okay to be unrealistic every now and again.
-----
31/09/09
Dear Diary,
I think that part of being smart is being able to take orders, yet also being able to turn around and say "fuck you, I'm doing this my way". You also need to be able to move flexibly between these two extremes according to context. In my opinion, being able to do all of these things factor into being smart.
I also think that people should be allowed to make their own mistakes from time to time. There's no point to life without learning, and a part of learning involves making mistakes. I don't believe that anybody has the right to inhibit another person's actions, simply because 'they know best'. Fact of the matter is, sometimes they do know best, sometimes they don't, but what the hell is the point of living if you never have the chance to find out for yourself?
-----
19/11/09
Dear Diary,
FUCK MY LIFE.
-----
There were a couple entries about Josh, a few mentioning Muzi [excluding the pages that I hacked out of the book because my mother found and read it], about ten million entries about Brian, a few about Chris, a shitload of complaining about the HSC... I can't believe what I used to think was meaningful. Some of it, sure, it hasn't changed a lot. But a ton of things were just... kind of embarrassing to read, because I sounded like such a massive loser. And it's a little worrying, because I'm pretty sure that in a few years time I will look back at myself now and think "Oh my god. Why was I such a retard?". Still. I think it's important to remember where and who we've been. Things like diaries hold memories in a way that no photo ever could.
-----
03/04/08
[These were/are my priorities in life, in no particular order].
-making money
-having fun
-friends
-establishing myself
-keeping contact with people like [insert names]. I.e. those that I'm scared I'll leave behind.
-not failing school.
-living.
-----
02/11/08
... my parents are assholes. My mother's a bitch, my father's a bastard, and together they make the perfect couple. [LOL. I didn't put this in because it's true. I put it in because it's immature and hilarious]
-----
26/09/09
Dear Diary,
I liked it better when... It didn't feel pathetic to cry.
It wasn't bad to be impulsive.
Money didn't decide everything.
It was okay to be unrealistic every now and again.
-----
31/09/09
Dear Diary,
I think that part of being smart is being able to take orders, yet also being able to turn around and say "fuck you, I'm doing this my way". You also need to be able to move flexibly between these two extremes according to context. In my opinion, being able to do all of these things factor into being smart.
I also think that people should be allowed to make their own mistakes from time to time. There's no point to life without learning, and a part of learning involves making mistakes. I don't believe that anybody has the right to inhibit another person's actions, simply because 'they know best'. Fact of the matter is, sometimes they do know best, sometimes they don't, but what the hell is the point of living if you never have the chance to find out for yourself?
-----
19/11/09
Dear Diary,
FUCK MY LIFE.
-----
There were a couple entries about Josh, a few mentioning Muzi [excluding the pages that I hacked out of the book because my mother found and read it], about ten million entries about Brian, a few about Chris, a shitload of complaining about the HSC... I can't believe what I used to think was meaningful. Some of it, sure, it hasn't changed a lot. But a ton of things were just... kind of embarrassing to read, because I sounded like such a massive loser. And it's a little worrying, because I'm pretty sure that in a few years time I will look back at myself now and think "Oh my god. Why was I such a retard?". Still. I think it's important to remember where and who we've been. Things like diaries hold memories in a way that no photo ever could.
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