Being without her fills me with an aching loneliness, an emotional impact that isn’t present verbally. I’m desperate not to lose the feeling of holding her, and being held. To not retain the experiences we shared and the little things that were unique to us.
Boo.
I’m writing through continuous tears, knowing that will be left unanswered. I long, more than anything, so have the reply. To read a comment and again know it’s her. To open an email with even that single word response, or to answer the phone and hear her speak. I long for the confirmation that I’ll see her again. I long to hold her hands and stare deeply into her eyes. To curl up, intertwined and to feel her heart beat. It’s something in which I’ll never lose hope.
She is truly special and I was truly stupid. I didn’t listen and remember, and I broke my promise.
I just lost the greatest person I know. We were committed, we belonged to each other, and that just makes it worse.
I’m so sorry K. If ever one day ‘it’ does become enough to take that chance again, it’d make me so happy. You hold the key to my heart.
Always and Forever in heart and mind.
]]>In a month she could be settled. In a month she could be continuing, slowly losing thoughts of me. So if this is to fail, should it be when she has the best chance of meeting someone new – someone completely different who can give her that chance? Not a nice thought but an equally selfish one.
I’m unsure I’m strong enough to make that decision too. I still love her to bits.
I want this to work.
As I wrote before and never posted; I think this young thing needs a reprise.
]]>Intent speaks loudest through internal dialogue. That little conversation had with yourself in times of reflection, of silent contemplation, of solitary consideration.
It is during these times that you come to realise what truly does, or does not matter.
“I’m glad it wasn’t me.”
A cold, egocentric rebuttal. Superficial, and a defence mechanism. Although probably seldom admitted by most, it happens. It has and will continue to happen to me.
This is the test of significance.
Both happiness and grief can touch vicariously, one simply chooses not to. Which is why, it is worth everything when you find something, someone, whose life touches yours, through good and bad.
“Relationships are so fragile, it just takes one thing, one tiny-little offence and it can snowball on ya. And if that snowball starts to pick up speed, God forbid, you better tuck and go my friend.”
- John C McGinley.
Behaviour and communication are irrational. It is all too easy to become distracted by those things of little consequence. The shiny, glittery trinkets of life which serve only to distance from that which sustains you. Those who complete you.
I am responsible for the emotion of another and too infrequently do I tell her what she means to me. Not just three word phrases, actually bearing my heart and being seen, imperfections included.
She means the world to me, but there’s a difference between knowing it, and being told.
“To give anything less than your best is to sacrifice the gift.”
- Steve Prefontaine.
Self destruction anyone?
]]>Constancy.
I strive for consistency and endurance but the ever salient reality is that life changes. Adaptation is the easy part. Learning to accept the adaptation is what’s difficult. Control is a wonderful thing and whilst its complete loss and lack of responsibility can be momentarily rousing, it is equally daunting.
"Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn't it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all these defences, you build up a whole suit of armour, so that nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life...You give them a piece of you. They didn't ask for it. They did something dumb one day, like kiss you or smile at you, and then your life isn't your own anymore. Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, so simple a phrase like 'maybe we should be just friends' turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart. It hurts. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It's a soul-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain. I hate love." - Neil Gaiman
It’s fantastic.
For all my depressive musings here, I feel alive.
I’m coming to realise that may not necessarily be so bad.
From somewhere, life and experience merged and returned to their former states. Somewhere, something changed, and for a few simple moments, everything was right. Everything was as it should be. It’s an indescribable moment, but at that specific point in time, clarity reigned and was completing. But, yet again, inevitability proved to be precisely that.
Unfortunately, inevitability could have been redefined. Of that fact, I am certain.
You come to realise your true position in the life of another through actions, not thoughts or utterances. Often, things which don’t happen illustrate intent more accurately, than those which do. When I know something to be wrong, everything stops. But when someone is aware of your own limits, your own desperate search for knowledge or reassurance, and finds occupation with anything else in substitute, it is truly crushing.
I cannot comprehend how the sole individual I am bearing myself open for, is so oblivious of my emotion. There comes a time when the only remaining assumptions are those of their own blistering awkwardness and indecision. Or that they just no longer care. Assumptions only exacerbated in the knowledge that the chance of wholesome communication, is excused for any other preoccupation. When does it begin to jeopardise potential reality?
More importantly, how is a ‘connection’, ‘chemistry’, the compulsion drawing you to another, possible to establish by proxy with whomever, but not on the stage of realism? That should even be “re-establish”.
Certainty cannot emerge unless the process is entered into. And that, is something which time, and mind, may not permit.
Naivety and indecision haunt. At the most basic level it is naivety and indecision which threaten to, and have, most likely, undermined a chance of pure happiness and content. Nothing else. Nothing more. A duel of simplicity.
But ironically, simplicitymatures.
At least even now, I can laugh at that.
A little stupid to think these entries wouldn't be indexed somewhere, but I would have liked my thoughts to remain anonymous. As I'm sure would anyone, specifically one, mentioned within the writing.
That's why I've edited it.
The internet.
One of the best places to remain anonymous, to become invisible, and yet some of my most personal thoughts are published at the top of Google for absolutely anyone with the ability to type, to see.
Perfect.
Things just keep getting better!
[Edit : On reflection, things can't get much worse. It doesn't matter any more. I'm editing the edits!]
]]>Thank you truly for your time and your comments. It’s nice to realise there is shared understanding, at least partially, with some of you who may read this.
My thoughts, this situation, aren’t unique. This I know. This isn’t somehow more significant simply because it’s being written about. This is a perfectly common occurrence.
But it’s my situation, and it’s not common to me. A single aspect of my life has become so important, so absolutely relevant to me, right now, and I can’t let it go. There is so much advice. So many different recommendations about how to reflect and move on to better things. And I can’t take any of it. It’s not possible to explain, but moving on this soon, would be wrong. It feels wrong.
Does that make it any less selfish? Any less egocentric? I can’t say. I’m willing to listen, to take heed. But, as much as hate all of this, as much as I want to return to my previous, assured, self, I can’t give up entirely.
I don’t want sympathy. I don’t want pity. This writing is for me. To resolve my thoughts. As odd as it may sound, it’s helps. The point that these entries are for my benefit, may be a little overstated, but it’s honest. If people read this, my intent won’t be entirely apparent.
I’m worrying about moving on, what happens next, and it hasn’t quite reached that stage. At what point does uncertainty, another individual being unsure of their thoughts and feelings, jeopardise any possibility of a future? When do the chances we take become futile and counter-productive?
Most importantly, is it even possible to genuinely connect with another, if you’re unsure?
For this to work, I have to show a side to myself that I’m unbelievably uncomfortable showing. And being uncomfortable about it, can only really be detrimental. K being unsure, isn’t her problem, it’s mine. It’s understandable, and justified because I’ve been detached. I’ve detached myself from the girl I’ve fallen for, and I’m not sure there’s a way back.
She could become the best partner I never had. And that scares me. It’s consuming.
]]>I never would have thought I would do this. I always thought blogging was pointless. A product of the internet overtaking handwritten journals, in an act of literary voyeurism.
I was wrong.
That said, this is only intended to address one area of my life. I'm writing this for my own sake. So I don't forget. So I can't forget. These are the musings of an over-emotional and sentimental fool. Do not adjust your monitors, just click exit now.
‘And Chance was made flesh (and we beheld his glory, the glory as of the only begotten of the Great Fickle Father), and he dwelt among us, full of chaos, and falsehood, and whim.’ – Luke Rhinehart.
A single moment. A single chance encounter. One moment of pure coincidence leading directly, completely, to contorted anguish. Feelings of uncontaminated affection, dare love. Unfortunately, the chances we don’t take in life are eclipsed by the ones we do. There’s no substitute for lost chances. Little can be done in retrospect. I shall try, and it looks like I’ll fail. One of the best things in my life, could, in 36 hours from now, be gone. Yet the chance to stop, or more accurately, continue things, is still going to be taken. Still worth taking. And I’m not sure I appreciate the full irony of that.
What I can appreciate is how this all sounds. All very ambiguous and overly philosophical. As I said, this is for me. An outlet. A medium in which to consider, reflect and remember my views. I don’t think this will make sense to most of you. But, if you’re genuinely interested, if any of you genuinely want to improve relationships you’re in.... take a chance. Set aside your thoughts, your beliefs, and take one small chance. Ideally, follow that by another. It gets easier, but begins with one small leap of faith. Say something you’ve been desperate to say, and don’t regret it. Why? Because otherwise you’ll never know. Regret hurts more than loss. It’s the power of the unknown.
I’ll sit here and say, despite knowing how cheap the word has become to some : I’m falling in love with Krystal Anne Evans. She basically knows it. And she doesn’t feel the same. I say basically, because if I actually said I loved her, right here, right now, it’d only make things worse. I’d stand and shout it, literally, at anyone who would listen, if I thought it would make a difference. But she knows. Deep down, she knows. She means so much, and realises so little. The problem, she thinks she realises more, is aware of something greater – a sense, and is unsure because of that. I’ve experienced moments, nights of something so close to absolute love. Unparalleled. Pure. And it’s great. But for every high, there’s an equal low.
And this is a low. 36 hours has just become something longer. A near eternity. She doesn’t feel ready to meet and work this out finally, and if I wasn’t so low already, I know it would hurt so much more. Not knowing is crushing. Being powerless, no control over anything, and as much as I trust her, and as much as I trust her judgement, she’s romantically naïve. Worse, I’m not even sure she knows it. I'm no better
Writing this is liberating. Knowing someone, somewhere may read this, and will understand. I can’t say this to anyone else. There’s a façade which must be kept at all times around others. It takes effort, but to some extent, we all do it.
As I say. If you’re genuinely concerned about how people regard you, make sure they regard you well. It’s simple. You say what you feel. You say what you know. If the other person is worth knowing, they’ll understand and they’ll accept you for yourself.
“Anybody can be anybody” - Luke Rhinehart
But although it’s harder to be yourself, the rewards are so much greater. So much more satisfying.
Try. Take a chance. See what happens.
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