Cycles

You tell yourself never again, but it goes and happens anyways.
There's a line from an outstanding movie,
"Why do I fall in love with the first girl who shows me the slightest bit of attention?"
And it always makes me feel a little closer to that character.

This is the last night before I go and tell another one "all of it". I've done this twice now, the last two suspected but this one... I don't know. She's different, and I'm not sure in a good way anymore. I had that same feeling of having someone attracted to me that I've had once before for any meaningful amount of time, but it completely disappeared within the last month. Caught a glimpse of it a few weeks ago, but lately, it's quiet.

The thing is that this time, spilling everything isn't in hopes of finding a kernel of mutual feeling within her. No, this time it's to clear my head. It's to save myself the agony that I already wasted an entire night and most of a day on- in that same brooding way that I was in for 3 months a year ago. For some reason, my ego needs to know if it ever was there, or if I misread. And if it was, is there a chance for it in the future?

Maybe for the better, but I'm preparing myself for the latter. I just want to enjoy my summer to the fullest, because while I can't feel the lonliness of school, I do remember it being there. And I know that I need to revel in this as much as I can, yet I'm letting one "friend" take it all away. Getting asked by close friends why I look stressed... Yeah, this isn't my idea of a good time.

I've rehearsed it so many times in my head by now, but I know it never goes how you plan. The truth, is all I want to say and hear. I can't see our current relationship changing, she just doesn't seem to be in the right place for anything more. But as long as she understands that I'm not expecting anything, and that I just want to know if there's anything more here that I missed a chance on (go me), I think that's fair.

Man, dropping this on someone out of the blue seems kinda mean. But it must be done... It's this continue on indefiniately feeling like shit deep down, because I can't be sure if this potentially incredible girl passed by and I was too dumb to understand, or if it was all an illusion brought on by my lack of understanding of the opposite sex.

To relief. It can't go any other way.

Down the hole (and up again?)

Irony is being back in this spot after, for so long, telling myself "never again". Never again would I waste my time wallowing in depression by choice, knowing exactly how to end it but... Not.

The last moment I had any meaningful social contact was around 8 on Saturday evening, and then briefly (and quite schizophrenically on my part) again around 1 on messenger. Shortly thereafter I found tears streaming down my face as I waited for sleep to come... The last time water of that sort came down my face in that spot was because of a love I had, but was not given back. This time was because of a love I have, that I thought was shared on meaningful level (though not as meaningful as I wish it were), but which I felt thrown to the wind like it wasn't important. All rather suddenly (unlike last time, which took a good 3 months to get beaten into my skull).

Being here, away from everyone that I cared about for 4 years of my life, reminds me of what it is to actually "care" about people. People at home... They get complacent, seeing their friends of ages everyday. I can't really blame them- afterall, it took being thrust away from them to realize how shitty it can be not having them- but nevertheless, it still hurt:

I want to say that my last night in town was one where I was the victim. I really do. Blaming everyone else is far easier, and for the last 3 days its what I've been trying to do, but it never feels quite right. What feels true is that I still carry the stigma in that town- the one I built for myself- of being quiet and mostly anti-social.

I got used to that feeling... And then I arrived at the university. I made different friends. These friends (and while I doubt age has much to do with it, they're all 3+ years ahead of me) aren't too different from the old ones I have, except in one major area that I can't explain in any sort of summarizing word or phrase that has any poetic value, so here's how in laymans: They invite me places. If they go do something, they ask me if I care to join. If they plan to go do something, they ask if I'm in. Such a simple act is- like so many- far more meaningful than quite a lot in my world. And what's more is that these kids don't know me as well as my older friends, but they geniunely care if I come or not. It's not just a curteousy invite- they actually want me there.

The thing is that after being exposed to that, of feeling "welcome" around them, I got it in my head that that's how it was with my old friends. And then I came home and either things have changed, or they never were. I don't mean my closest friends that know pretty much everything in my head- I mean my "friends" that just know me like the guys here do. Well, scratch that- one of the friends I speak of should know me as well as my close friends.

So this stigma that I used to have came back on that last night- manifested in the form of nobody particularly caring to ask me to join them in anything. Part of this is my ego, which while I try to keep very small and benign, is still there. It's not really anyone's fault, they just didn't think of me. I expected them to, and was hit in the face by reality. Maybe it was because everyone was home and things were in chaos, but... I don't know. I felt extremely hurt by something, and maybe it was reality, maybe it was the realization that they don't care as much as I want them to... I don't know why I want anyone to care. I guess it makes me feel more alive.

Saturday night I packed my shit and basically said, to myself, "fuck you"... To the rest of my social life. It felt good at the time- maybe as some sort of subconcious revenge against them. But for the last 3 days (and by the time anyone reads this in whatever form it takes, it will be closer to a week) I've minimalized any social contact with every friend I have, save for my family (who I know for a fact would worry if I dropped contact for a week). And for the last 3 days, I've been trying to rationalize it... I can't.

For some reason the only thing that makes sense is when I think "I don't deserve friends when I act like this." And acting like this came naturally to me for a very long time- you know, walking around displaying zero emotion or courtesy, not going out of my way to be involved in socializing... So what, why do this? This is how it USED to be, and its funny because I got all butt hurt when they treated me like I was this way. If I'm not, why am I writing this?

Maybe because I became something else (even before I left!), and it didn't feel like any of them acknowledged it a few days ago. I would never ask them to be false, but the reality of how they acted was not what I expected.

The absolute truth that I try to lie to myself about? A few weeks ago I started feeling like she had detatched from me. It started with messages not ending with "love you", a simple term that from her had meaning and from anyone, well, I've rarely ever received. I got a feeling of dread in the back of my mind when I heard she was in town, and would be when I returned. Because I felt a bit numb at her now, I want to ask "why?" at her but it felt silly, and I got the feeling she'd play it off as "oh, I just did it 'cause" because only ONCE have I ever got her to talk about the feelings she has deep down. She doesn't wear them on her sleeve like I and so many that I know do, which is why I felt her so special in the first place. Who knew it'd eventually drive me to being upset at her for it?

The truth isn't that I'm upset with my friends for leaving me out- I'm annoyed that at least 2-3 of them knew it was my last day and didn't bother asking me to do anything- it's that I'm sad that reality wants to hit me again. I really had this thing going in my mind that, I love her. In the purest sense. Friend, romantic, whatever. Fucking all of it. As much as I wish and hope it would go beyond what it is (was?), I would be content to have that feeling of love that I got when she was around or when she hugged me, because THAT feeling was the one where I wasn't lying to myself and knew she wanted me around. Do you really need some sort of formulaic relationship with someone when you know you have their love? I didn't think so. But... Heh, that first day I was back and heard she was around, the first thing I hear is that she's looking for the kid I was with. Not the both of us. Just him. I feel selfish saying that, but its what it feels like.

What we really feel inside- all the greed and egoism- it's not so pretty, but I know for a fact that everyone feels it.

I'm not sure what I want to do with this. There's a message sitting in my inbox from her saying god-knows-what, but I refuse to read it yet. It's a reply to a cry for pity, and I really hate myself for disguising everything in this writing under a half-assed paragraph of self-piting. But I'm afraid. I'm afraid because last time I displayed this level of analyzation over what everyone else can just write off, I got called obsessive. My thoughts look long-winded in written form, but the truth is that I continue my life daily, minus friends right now, and can work and concentrate just as hard.

This has all been brewing much longer than 3 days, but 3 days of solitude can put things in a nutshell rather quickly. This is everything really, this is the only source of concern in my world. If I asked, could it be more? If I showed her this, would she eyeball it and run like the last one did?

I know exactly what I want, but I don't think I can have it. And it's unbelievably frustrating. But it felt so good to be friends with her like we were at the end of summer, and if nothing else, I just want that back. The trouble is you don't get to request something like that.

Awakening

Recovered from an addiction to pain,
Having learned of the nothingness to gain.
In this new start-
just a brief part
Of the beginning of life anew
Seeing that real love's borders are few.

The confines fell ages ago amid the tragedy of crushed hopes
This news is old.

But the sun arrives everyday now- and warmer
And though this new one replaces the former
Bringing along ideas doomed to arrive nowhere
I don't care-

And that's how I know this time,
It's real.

Blind Eye

It's amazing- depressingly amazing, how long a person can fail to notice a pile of shit. There it sits in the corner, festering, making itself known to all but the one who is constantly near it. Sans this one, the rest see it for what it is: An obnoxious, useless pile of shit that will be better forgotten than smelled.

But there's this one that sees it through one eye as art, beauty, worth it. After awhile they failed to notice even the stench when it was toyed with and poked around in. It became a part of their daily life and no longer registered; in fact, the absence of this shit only seemed to hurt more and they couldn't cope with the world when it was lacking, despite how everyone around them could see the one's life as going infinitely better in that absence.

This one is afraid of being alone, afraid that this pile of shit is the only thing they'll ever see beauty in, and refuse to let it go even when it is painfully obvious to the others around it that it should be shunned. They need not poke around inside to look for beauty- if you look hard enough at anything for something, you'll find it- they need only to passively observe its interaction with the world for a fair period of time. Judgement? Absolutely. Nobody cries "don't judge them" when the murderer is sent to death for henious acts, this is no different. No, the others see the pile for what it is: Shit. Nothing more. So why does the one see it out of one eye as art?

They're terrified of opening the other eye and seeing the pile for what it is, terrified of being wrong for so long and feeling so stupid for not coming to their full senses.

But the others wouldn't judge the one for that. The one is the essence of good and beauty, and means only well. The one is not a pile of shit, just blind in one eye.

Uncover it.

A shallow hole, but not a grave.

I once asked what it saw, now I know. It did see something, but not as much as it did in another.

Would it have in time? Yes.
Will it still? Perhaps.

To bury this... How deep does the hole have to go? I opt for shallow enough that it can be uncovered later, unscathed and still beautiful. But to go as deep as possible- allowing the mind to swallow it whole... Is unfathomable. I never wish to forget the feeling of absolute bliss that was there before, and I'll hold onto the hope that it'll be rediscovered in time.

So therein lies the mantra: Bury it, but never lose sight.

There will never be anything but love here.

Complexity(-?)

There isn't any. Our lives are merely obscured by a thick fog of fear that society has hurled onto us since birth. One day, we'll clear it and discover so much more in each other.

One day.

That one.

What does it see?

I know what I see: Hope. Warmth.

And I know I'm not blind, but forcing perceptions into another seems criminal. Yet the look... The reaction... They're something wholly beautiful to behold.

So, what does it see?