Thinking. Then drinking. Then more thinking.
Log start 2pm
Another click over in my thoughts, today... more crystallisation of my thought processes. As usual, prompted by Ant. That's probably one of the things I miss most; the feedback, the give and take. Who'm I kidding; it's there if I choose to take it, but I'm too gutless. I've never had the knack of small talk; my conversational skills are somewhat lacking. So often, I find myself incapable of starting a conversation... at least one of any depth. So I rely on the other party to make the first move, and if they choose not to do so, for whatever reason... I end up silent, frustrated by my own inadequacies. Which, to put it bluntly, sucks. Especially when it comes to breaking down barriers, even the ones in my own mind. Eventually I'll master that, but until then... well, we'll see. I've been lucky so far. Something that's been orbiting in my skull for some time... I've always known it, just now seems an appropriate time to put it to paper. Anyhoo, it's another of my many quandaries. I'll just stick it on my to-do list.
Anyway, onward. I have, to a huge extent, wallowed in my own misery. And I know a lot of that is because on some level, I /like/ being miserable. Gives me something to whinge about. Not to belittle it, but I'm a whiner, and something this angsty doesn't pop up all that often. So I'm playing it for all it's worth. And in doing so, I've ignored everyone /elses/ pain and such. I know damn well it wasn't easy for anyone involved. Hell, she came over here, knowing nobody... and gets dumped right in the middle of this morass. With all her prior issues still unsolved. Not a good way to be. And while I guess I've painted all this as an overnight thing, it wasn't. Two, maybe three months, woah to go. Took three days for me to be out of that picture, and another month or two for Stephen to enter it (Well, he was in the big picture for as long as I was, but I'm talking the romantic picture), and I don't doubt in the slightest that for the entire time in the middle, with a large degree of overlap as well, she was wrestling with ideas and such. I mean hell... sticking to what I know about (ie, me) she had to worry about letting me go reasonably gently, because I /really/ wasn't getting the message and clung far too hard for far too long. She had to figure out how things stood between us in the new order, and then there was the added complication of Stephen - one of my best pals, who I'd been drifting from for some time, and how the two of them would affect my friendship with him. Messy, huh. Throw in uncertainty over how /she/ felt about Stephen, family hassles, and a few other fun things... and the girl had a lot on her plate. And I've been so deep in my own self-pity I've ignored it. Admittedly, I've had a lot on my plate, too... but I've neglected that as well so I could devote more time to being angsty and heartbroken, so I can't claim the other stuff as an excuse for my ignorance. Hell, just look at this thing. Most of my other hassles have been mentioned, but only as side-notes to my general ant-whining. Unfair as all hell to all involved. Only plus to it all is that I've been thinking more than usual, and figured out a few aspects to my personality... and that's really a mixed blessing, if at all.
*break to get sloshed with Ant, Stephen and Afromann*
Well I think I can definitively put aside all worries about getting along with the two of em; just got half-tanked with em - strawberry kilkenny is nice. And well.... shall we say I've had a few things mentioned to me that I thought would have set me into major thought mode, upset me to all hell... instead, I'm feeling happy. I guess we set some of the crap to one side... had some fun, bonded again. Maybe I'm over-emphasising this, thinking more is there than is there, but hey... I'm happy. All is good. We're talking again (kinda). I /seem/ to have dealt with the lingering possessive crap over her, or at least didn't get depressed when I was told what they'd been upto. Which is a plus. I mean... I've been slowly becoming aware of a possessive streak of late. That became obvious when Kitsch mentioned wanting to break the arms of anyone who leered at Xandri, and I could agree wholeheartedly, and felt the same (to a degree). About a girl I have no more right to touch, let alone claim as 'mine'. Or, knowing the chick in question, have her claim me as hers. Shook me up a lot when that one rammed home, I can tell ya. Possessive is /not/ something I ascribe to myself; hell, most of the time I don't care what my friends/romantic interests are doing when I'm not there. But that's an offshoot, I figure... a kind of ego, the supreme faith that folks will always come back to me. Or some shit. I really dunno. Either way, instead of being depressed, I'm happy. It's like, what the hell. So what. They're happy. And I can put my demons to rest. I thought when I found this out - I knew I'd hear it eventually - it'd kick me into a massive funk... him getting what I never had, ect. But I don't care. Which is good. It may mean I'm finally over her... or it could be the drink talking, and I'll be depressed and surly in the morning. We'll see. Either way, it's good to know for certain, rather than run on assumptions. Of course, she may have lied, but hey. I doubt it. She don't lie. I wish I could say the same about myself...
So yeah. Life is good. It'll still take me a while to sort through my lingering angst, and I don't doubt more shit will spring up... but for the moment, I don't care. We're talking a bit, and at least she seems not to be pissed at me. I'm comfortable enough /to/ talk with her. And that's a load off my mind. We probably will never regain what intimacy and trust we once had, but at least we're talking. And that trust isn't for me any more... it's his. Some things only one person should hear. It's not me any longer, if it ever was. But we're talking. I hope to God it lasts... because I'm becoming more and more aware of the fact I miss Ant the Friend far more than Ant the Girlfriend. Ant the friend was everything a friend should be; open, trusting, a good listener. Ant the girlfriend was an idea I had that I let myself believe was a reality. Convinced myself that a friend that good /had/ to lead to something more. At least I wasn't alone in my delusion... it was a given, among my circle (and hers, I believe), that the two of us would be together. And given how rarely I talk of romanticstuff, that says a lot. What they knew, they learnt from other places, not what I told em. I miss her as a friend. I don't miss the lover that never was. Don't make my heart any less broken, but hey. I broke it all by myself, she was just the tool. I miss her, personally... but for the values and traits that made her such an excellent friend. Not for her looks, or her smell, or any of the other things I only encountered when I realised it was over. Not for her physical nature, the way she plays with folks, her style. I miss her for her mind. The mind that held problems I could understand and help with. Things I could cure, or make better, and her own considerable skills at listening and healing my soul. Her quirky humour, the banter we had. The person I could tell anything to, anytime, and know she would understand... and knowing that she felt the same. That was the biggest buzz of my life. Knowing I was understood and understanding in turn, no doubts, no questions... just /knowing/. I often claimed she was my soul's twin. I should have listened more closely... one's twin cannot become one's mate. It's no wonder I'm so confused. I never lost her. I lost another person entirely, a person I built from expectations and hopes, impossible dreams and forlorn ambitions. A poor choice to make the cornerstone of your soul. The /real/ anthea I still love... and always will. And I know that she loves me, in whatever shreds are left of the sisterly affection she once expressed for me.
Now, it's 5:20 am, I've been typing sporadically for an hour or so, and I'm going to chill for a while to some Moby at high volume... gotta love moby. You'd think songs like 'will my honey come back' and 'why does my heart feel so bad' would depress me further... but something about them, some wistful note, makes me hope for the future, rather than dwell on the past. A therapy I have used a lot, of late. But I shall listen to moby for a few hours, then I will collapse when my eyes cannot remain open any longer. Then, I shall sleep... and hope that upon awakening, I feel as happy about everything as I do now.
Log ends 5:26am.
Another click over in my thoughts, today... more crystallisation of my thought processes. As usual, prompted by Ant. That's probably one of the things I miss most; the feedback, the give and take. Who'm I kidding; it's there if I choose to take it, but I'm too gutless. I've never had the knack of small talk; my conversational skills are somewhat lacking. So often, I find myself incapable of starting a conversation... at least one of any depth. So I rely on the other party to make the first move, and if they choose not to do so, for whatever reason... I end up silent, frustrated by my own inadequacies. Which, to put it bluntly, sucks. Especially when it comes to breaking down barriers, even the ones in my own mind. Eventually I'll master that, but until then... well, we'll see. I've been lucky so far. Something that's been orbiting in my skull for some time... I've always known it, just now seems an appropriate time to put it to paper. Anyhoo, it's another of my many quandaries. I'll just stick it on my to-do list.
Anyway, onward. I have, to a huge extent, wallowed in my own misery. And I know a lot of that is because on some level, I /like/ being miserable. Gives me something to whinge about. Not to belittle it, but I'm a whiner, and something this angsty doesn't pop up all that often. So I'm playing it for all it's worth. And in doing so, I've ignored everyone /elses/ pain and such. I know damn well it wasn't easy for anyone involved. Hell, she came over here, knowing nobody... and gets dumped right in the middle of this morass. With all her prior issues still unsolved. Not a good way to be. And while I guess I've painted all this as an overnight thing, it wasn't. Two, maybe three months, woah to go. Took three days for me to be out of that picture, and another month or two for Stephen to enter it (Well, he was in the big picture for as long as I was, but I'm talking the romantic picture), and I don't doubt in the slightest that for the entire time in the middle, with a large degree of overlap as well, she was wrestling with ideas and such. I mean hell... sticking to what I know about (ie, me) she had to worry about letting me go reasonably gently, because I /really/ wasn't getting the message and clung far too hard for far too long. She had to figure out how things stood between us in the new order, and then there was the added complication of Stephen - one of my best pals, who I'd been drifting from for some time, and how the two of them would affect my friendship with him. Messy, huh. Throw in uncertainty over how /she/ felt about Stephen, family hassles, and a few other fun things... and the girl had a lot on her plate. And I've been so deep in my own self-pity I've ignored it. Admittedly, I've had a lot on my plate, too... but I've neglected that as well so I could devote more time to being angsty and heartbroken, so I can't claim the other stuff as an excuse for my ignorance. Hell, just look at this thing. Most of my other hassles have been mentioned, but only as side-notes to my general ant-whining. Unfair as all hell to all involved. Only plus to it all is that I've been thinking more than usual, and figured out a few aspects to my personality... and that's really a mixed blessing, if at all.
*break to get sloshed with Ant, Stephen and Afromann*
Well I think I can definitively put aside all worries about getting along with the two of em; just got half-tanked with em - strawberry kilkenny is nice. And well.... shall we say I've had a few things mentioned to me that I thought would have set me into major thought mode, upset me to all hell... instead, I'm feeling happy. I guess we set some of the crap to one side... had some fun, bonded again. Maybe I'm over-emphasising this, thinking more is there than is there, but hey... I'm happy. All is good. We're talking again (kinda). I /seem/ to have dealt with the lingering possessive crap over her, or at least didn't get depressed when I was told what they'd been upto. Which is a plus. I mean... I've been slowly becoming aware of a possessive streak of late. That became obvious when Kitsch mentioned wanting to break the arms of anyone who leered at Xandri, and I could agree wholeheartedly, and felt the same (to a degree). About a girl I have no more right to touch, let alone claim as 'mine'. Or, knowing the chick in question, have her claim me as hers. Shook me up a lot when that one rammed home, I can tell ya. Possessive is /not/ something I ascribe to myself; hell, most of the time I don't care what my friends/romantic interests are doing when I'm not there. But that's an offshoot, I figure... a kind of ego, the supreme faith that folks will always come back to me. Or some shit. I really dunno. Either way, instead of being depressed, I'm happy. It's like, what the hell. So what. They're happy. And I can put my demons to rest. I thought when I found this out - I knew I'd hear it eventually - it'd kick me into a massive funk... him getting what I never had, ect. But I don't care. Which is good. It may mean I'm finally over her... or it could be the drink talking, and I'll be depressed and surly in the morning. We'll see. Either way, it's good to know for certain, rather than run on assumptions. Of course, she may have lied, but hey. I doubt it. She don't lie. I wish I could say the same about myself...
So yeah. Life is good. It'll still take me a while to sort through my lingering angst, and I don't doubt more shit will spring up... but for the moment, I don't care. We're talking a bit, and at least she seems not to be pissed at me. I'm comfortable enough /to/ talk with her. And that's a load off my mind. We probably will never regain what intimacy and trust we once had, but at least we're talking. And that trust isn't for me any more... it's his. Some things only one person should hear. It's not me any longer, if it ever was. But we're talking. I hope to God it lasts... because I'm becoming more and more aware of the fact I miss Ant the Friend far more than Ant the Girlfriend. Ant the friend was everything a friend should be; open, trusting, a good listener. Ant the girlfriend was an idea I had that I let myself believe was a reality. Convinced myself that a friend that good /had/ to lead to something more. At least I wasn't alone in my delusion... it was a given, among my circle (and hers, I believe), that the two of us would be together. And given how rarely I talk of romanticstuff, that says a lot. What they knew, they learnt from other places, not what I told em. I miss her as a friend. I don't miss the lover that never was. Don't make my heart any less broken, but hey. I broke it all by myself, she was just the tool. I miss her, personally... but for the values and traits that made her such an excellent friend. Not for her looks, or her smell, or any of the other things I only encountered when I realised it was over. Not for her physical nature, the way she plays with folks, her style. I miss her for her mind. The mind that held problems I could understand and help with. Things I could cure, or make better, and her own considerable skills at listening and healing my soul. Her quirky humour, the banter we had. The person I could tell anything to, anytime, and know she would understand... and knowing that she felt the same. That was the biggest buzz of my life. Knowing I was understood and understanding in turn, no doubts, no questions... just /knowing/. I often claimed she was my soul's twin. I should have listened more closely... one's twin cannot become one's mate. It's no wonder I'm so confused. I never lost her. I lost another person entirely, a person I built from expectations and hopes, impossible dreams and forlorn ambitions. A poor choice to make the cornerstone of your soul. The /real/ anthea I still love... and always will. And I know that she loves me, in whatever shreds are left of the sisterly affection she once expressed for me.
Now, it's 5:20 am, I've been typing sporadically for an hour or so, and I'm going to chill for a while to some Moby at high volume... gotta love moby. You'd think songs like 'will my honey come back' and 'why does my heart feel so bad' would depress me further... but something about them, some wistful note, makes me hope for the future, rather than dwell on the past. A therapy I have used a lot, of late. But I shall listen to moby for a few hours, then I will collapse when my eyes cannot remain open any longer. Then, I shall sleep... and hope that upon awakening, I feel as happy about everything as I do now.
Log ends 5:26am.