sometimes, it's all about what's left unsaid.
"who's your favourite character?"
"i like cassie, she's crazy. you?"
"i have a total soft spot for chris, not sure why"
because he looks like you and acts like you and god i miss you when you're not around and half of me wishes i didn't because then things would be fucking simple.
"i blame him for all this"
"i do too"
but i still wouldn't change a minute of it because he changed absolutely everything i've ever been.
"it's my favourite, i hope you like it"
"i do, i've listened to it three times in a row"
"great, i'm glad"
i miss you.
"you know you can trust me with anything right? best friends, forever."
"yeah of course, of course."
i hate you, you liar, liar, fucking deceiver, backstabber. you left the frays from the ties you severed. best friends don't lie, they don't tell, they don't play the fucking victim, and they don't make me feel the way you do.
"moving out makes no sense right now, too expensive..."
i want to move out.
"all i want is for you to be happy"
even if i can't be that person, like i wanted to.
fin.
Monday 23 February 2009
Friday 20 February 2009
bad in the blood
Today was... not easy. I felt ill, I felt tired. I was still mulling over last night. It was not cool.
Right now I'm feeling better. Less frantic, at least. I'm so unsure about the future right now, it's terrifying. You see, I have this streak in me that makes me want to turn tail and run, start my life over somewhere different where no one knows my name and I will never have to apologize for who I am again.
Now I've had this opportunity handed to me on a plate and I can't decide whether taking it is giving up or grasping life by the scruff of the neck.
I have a lot of big decision making to do. Which is five kinds of bad (at least) because I can't even choose what film I want to watch without mulling it over for at least ten minutes.
Lately I keep thinking about orange roses, and what I could have done differently. At the time, I thought nothing could have changed what happened – there is no coincidence. there is only the inevitable. – but the more I think about it, the more I appreciate what I had.
Lynn asked me today what was keeping me here, if not – and I said, I don't know.
I don't know what to do for the best. How not to hurt anyone. How to cause myself the least hurt possible. What do I really need, really? And do I have it... let's be honest... is this it?
Maybe the only way to escape the past is to leave it physically behind you.
Right now I'm feeling better. Less frantic, at least. I'm so unsure about the future right now, it's terrifying. You see, I have this streak in me that makes me want to turn tail and run, start my life over somewhere different where no one knows my name and I will never have to apologize for who I am again.
Now I've had this opportunity handed to me on a plate and I can't decide whether taking it is giving up or grasping life by the scruff of the neck.
I have a lot of big decision making to do. Which is five kinds of bad (at least) because I can't even choose what film I want to watch without mulling it over for at least ten minutes.
Lately I keep thinking about orange roses, and what I could have done differently. At the time, I thought nothing could have changed what happened – there is no coincidence. there is only the inevitable. – but the more I think about it, the more I appreciate what I had.
Lynn asked me today what was keeping me here, if not – and I said, I don't know.
I don't know what to do for the best. How not to hurt anyone. How to cause myself the least hurt possible. What do I really need, really? And do I have it... let's be honest... is this it?
Maybe the only way to escape the past is to leave it physically behind you.
Thursday 19 February 2009
but you are, my love, the astronaut
So, the thing is; my boyfriend doesn't ever plan on falling in love again.
Which is, you know, nice to know. Makes me feel right special, that does.
In all fairness, I can understand. Sort of. It must be difficult, having been in a long term relationship, to allow someone to be in that position to hurt you again. I mean, how would I know? I've never had anything that's lasted more than a few months. And yet...
There's part of me that just doesn't get it. I don't, I'm sorry. I'm one of those crazy people that just... I love to love, you know? I've fallen in love, oh, twice maybe? Ridiculously so. But, you know, shit happens. You move on. The hurt is worth it. The pain is worth it to have ever loved someone at all. It's not fun when it all does wrong – and it almost inevitably does – but isn't it better than not being able to let go? I act the cynic, about people, about life, and everything. But I'm not really. And when I think about it, I'd hate to be truly cynical because I thrive on hope.
It's left me reeling. I knew things were going to have to go slowly, but to hear it from him: "fuck love." How am I supposed to feel? I don't know whether staying with him and taking the time and trying to make him see that there is good in caring, that I or someone else might one day be worth it; I don't know if I can do that. I do care an awful lot about him, but. Part of me wonders if I will ever live up to her, the ex. If I will ever make him feel the way she did. If he will ever let himself go with me the way he did with her.
Part of me wonders if I really want to be spending my time with someone who is clearly so afraid of everything that I hold dear. If he's never going to be able to get over that hurt, then what's the point?
I don't want him to stop thinking about her, to stop being her friend. I'm not jealous, at least, not in the traditional sense. It's not like I never think of the last person I loved. It's not like I never talk to him. But. I accept it. It happened, and I moved on. My coping skills are legendary, but I don't think I'm anything special.
All I want, really, is for him to be happy. I don't want him to be dealing with this anymore. I want him to realise that love – and life in general – is twenty times more fun if you just let the past go and fuck everything that's happened before. However, I don't know whether I'm a help or a hindrance in this matter. I just wish... I wish I knew what to do for the best.
Of the good: best friends that you can sleep on are made of awesome. Other best friends who give you Magnum ice creams are even awesomer. The Mighty Boosh is freaking sweet, I have two new favourite bands, and UNI IN 7 MONTHS :D
Which is, you know, nice to know. Makes me feel right special, that does.
In all fairness, I can understand. Sort of. It must be difficult, having been in a long term relationship, to allow someone to be in that position to hurt you again. I mean, how would I know? I've never had anything that's lasted more than a few months. And yet...
There's part of me that just doesn't get it. I don't, I'm sorry. I'm one of those crazy people that just... I love to love, you know? I've fallen in love, oh, twice maybe? Ridiculously so. But, you know, shit happens. You move on. The hurt is worth it. The pain is worth it to have ever loved someone at all. It's not fun when it all does wrong – and it almost inevitably does – but isn't it better than not being able to let go? I act the cynic, about people, about life, and everything. But I'm not really. And when I think about it, I'd hate to be truly cynical because I thrive on hope.
It's left me reeling. I knew things were going to have to go slowly, but to hear it from him: "fuck love." How am I supposed to feel? I don't know whether staying with him and taking the time and trying to make him see that there is good in caring, that I or someone else might one day be worth it; I don't know if I can do that. I do care an awful lot about him, but. Part of me wonders if I will ever live up to her, the ex. If I will ever make him feel the way she did. If he will ever let himself go with me the way he did with her.
Part of me wonders if I really want to be spending my time with someone who is clearly so afraid of everything that I hold dear. If he's never going to be able to get over that hurt, then what's the point?
I don't want him to stop thinking about her, to stop being her friend. I'm not jealous, at least, not in the traditional sense. It's not like I never think of the last person I loved. It's not like I never talk to him. But. I accept it. It happened, and I moved on. My coping skills are legendary, but I don't think I'm anything special.
All I want, really, is for him to be happy. I don't want him to be dealing with this anymore. I want him to realise that love – and life in general – is twenty times more fun if you just let the past go and fuck everything that's happened before. However, I don't know whether I'm a help or a hindrance in this matter. I just wish... I wish I knew what to do for the best.
Of the good: best friends that you can sleep on are made of awesome. Other best friends who give you Magnum ice creams are even awesomer. The Mighty Boosh is freaking sweet, I have two new favourite bands, and UNI IN 7 MONTHS :D
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