5.1.3.-2

“I’m biting my tongue and I’m holding my breath.
I’m counting the minutes as they tick towards death.
I’m on the verge of crying, but I don’t shed a tear.
This music reminds me that it’s you that’s not here.”

The way my room is set up right now, the distant, blank walls and half-finished paintings, the strange emptiness in the middle of the room that seems to ask for something to fill it without suggesting anything but awkwardness, the tiny bed in the far corner facing just so… If I let it, this room reminds me of the last bedroom I slept in before I moved out of my parents’ home. This room reminds me of the bedroom I cam home to after spending a week with my betrothed. It seems foreign; the other room, the one I am reminded of, was literally built and painted and my stuff put in it while I was out of town. I left the safety of my family and my home and my own room to venture out into the world and seek true love (I didn’t find it that week, only disappointment and the realization that I was not mature enough to handle an important relationship properly.) and when I returned averything was different. I was different because I had just learned of some of the many ways that what was wrong was about me and not about the other or the world. My family was different because they were beginning to see me as someone who would not always be around. The most visible change though, was my bedroom, which had been completely transformed. When I had left, my room was a mess, my possessions in haphazard, random piles all over the floor, one wall half gone in the beginnings of the construction that was going to take place, and the remaining walls full of the color and shape of my first murals. When I returned the entire shape of the room had changed; it was so much larger than it had been that the middle of it had become a strange emptiness that had nothing to fill it. All of my possessions had been put together on shelves or in drawers along the walls, and my tiny bed crouched in the far corner, facing just so. It felt foreign; this was not the room that I had left, and it never could be again.

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1.2.2.-2

Some part of me wants to be a part of a fairy tale beginning. (Romance in modern fairy tales – the kind I know – is all about beginnings. It tells us the story of how hard it was for true love to bring the beautiful, blessed young people together, not how they stayed together or what it was like when things settled down. Never the ending; endings are depressing. The relationship between the two lovers cannot end until both are dead and gone – think Romeo and Juliet – and modern Romance doesn’t dare face that harsh reality. We want a happy ending, so we end with a happy beginning.) I want to be thrust by the fates into the arms of my lover and in the face of adversity stay by their side so that we can be together forever. I want to come home to find that someone has run away from the insurmountable obstacles on every side of the life they want to leave behind and into the loving safety of my arms, to share their life with me. I want to have someone in my life who is actually willing to give up everything if it means staying with me, and to love them as deeply. I believe I am this willing, but I am more and more prone to belive that the world is not; that although the world likes the idea of this ideal, they choose to value things other than the people they love above all else. I want to meet someone who just fits so perfectly with me and the person I want to be and who feels the same and is willing to take the steps with me to make our lives as one. I want to be the sort of person that another person can love right away, that is worth giving something up for, that fills a hole in someone special’s heart and life. I want to be special to someone and to share myself with someone special to me.

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1.3.9.-3

I am exhausted. Physically my body is quaking with the exhaustion. It baffles me that when my body has become too tired to move it moves uncontrollably. I suppose this is true because I am equally baffled by the way my heart moves the same. Just as I feel I have emoted so strenuously for so long that my heart must soon collapse, it begins to flutter far from my control.

These tiny pitter-pats, if they were to occur not after such a strenuous occupation of my heart, would give me pause. In fact I HAVE paused recently, mistaking these unintentional quakes for actual motion of my heartstrings. It has done me no good and I believe I only recognize it because of the harm my reactions to these meaningless flutters has brought me in the past and the repercussions I feel still.

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5.4.8.-3

I’ve done this before. I told her I would do it again, and she said she would understand. I guess she forgot. Perhaps I was not clear. Perhaps I did not give enough details for recognizing this the second time around. That I am behaving exactly the same as I did before, using some of the same lines as before, at the same time of the lunar cycle as before, is not enough, I guess.

There’s something about being predictable that just doesn’t sit will with other people. Even if it’s being predictable in a good way. People always want this time to be different. They want excitement, and that really means they want new things. They want to see something different from what they saw before, and it is only when they do that they are interested or satisfied. There is a lot that is said about stability and consistency, and most of it is negative. Yet people speak louder when someone is unreliable or unpredictable. Which way should we be?

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1.4.8.-3

I don’t think that this is what I want anymore. I’m certain that if I were in a truly committed relationship and I felt this way I would be obligated by my commitment to stay in it despite this sort of temporary inconvenience. This is the sort of thing that can be worked out. This is the sort of thing that takes work.

I know that if I were in a committed relationship with someone, they would be someone who I knew would be willing to work toward continued success with me. Someone who would not leave me feeling the way that I do these days; like I am in a different relationship than the other. I would be glad to do what it takes to make a relationship continuously successful and fulfilling for both parties, but only when it is clear that both parties are interested in and committed to the same. Not just the idea of making it work, but the actual work involved in obtaining that idea.

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