(no subject)
tonight is the most depressed I've been in a long time, but somehow, it feels overwhelmingly good.
For the past nearly 6 months I've been caught in the happiness vortex of whatever the oppsite of doom is that is my girlfriend and having good friends. They've somehow blocked out all the bullshit that I felt last year.
But today is an exception, my friends and girlfriend are not present and neither is my home for 13 years. My Mom sold 7971 Cloman Ave. and will be moving by the end of the week. I rolled down the driveway for the very last time today and it's hit me gradually and then suddenly that I won't be living there....the memories that I've made there will stay there until it's torn down in some fury of destruction some 50 years or so from now, but I won't visit and new memories that aren't mine or my Mother's will be added to it's stature.
I've never dealt with something like this before really other than the folded wreckage of my car almost 4 years ago now. That car had many memories but not nearly as many as that house.
Ohh how nostalgia can rip you apart in one carefully placed tug on those invisible heart strings....they aren't there on a doctor's guide to life, but whenever tears are shed, we feel them twinge a note so clear it would put a stradivarius to shame.
You'll probably never see a drop of emotion come from my eyes, because that's not me, but know that I am effected...very few can see it in my face, but I do show it...
And with not a soul in sight and only the sound of cars humming down the road, today I showed it.
That's probably why I was so entrenched in sadness today. Noone was there today to see it. I looked around for those I had made memories with....I expected them all to be there, lined up, waving to me with the same grief filled happiness I have of moving on.
Brent, Jeff, Scooby, & Brian, whom came over to my house more often than once to use it as a base for strategic operations upon girls' houses the likes of which the town of Inver Grove could never conceive of. The Cazas, The Taylors, & Dan, who on numerous occasions helped my Mother (with her breaking wrists) and me (with my seizures). Joe, whom almost never set foot in my house due to the supreme reign of cat fur..... & Katie, whom I made the most memories with in that house, nearly our first everythings.
But they weren't there to see it. They all have their own lives now...and only one of them has remained my friend throughout it all...Joe.
So what does one do when he/she loses half of their life in a single moment?
You keep driving, deciding to make new memories with those who ARE lined up waiting for you.
Thank you Joe, Kara, Dom, Brian, Elise....
For the past nearly 6 months I've been caught in the happiness vortex of whatever the oppsite of doom is that is my girlfriend and having good friends. They've somehow blocked out all the bullshit that I felt last year.
But today is an exception, my friends and girlfriend are not present and neither is my home for 13 years. My Mom sold 7971 Cloman Ave. and will be moving by the end of the week. I rolled down the driveway for the very last time today and it's hit me gradually and then suddenly that I won't be living there....the memories that I've made there will stay there until it's torn down in some fury of destruction some 50 years or so from now, but I won't visit and new memories that aren't mine or my Mother's will be added to it's stature.
I've never dealt with something like this before really other than the folded wreckage of my car almost 4 years ago now. That car had many memories but not nearly as many as that house.
Ohh how nostalgia can rip you apart in one carefully placed tug on those invisible heart strings....they aren't there on a doctor's guide to life, but whenever tears are shed, we feel them twinge a note so clear it would put a stradivarius to shame.
You'll probably never see a drop of emotion come from my eyes, because that's not me, but know that I am effected...very few can see it in my face, but I do show it...
And with not a soul in sight and only the sound of cars humming down the road, today I showed it.
That's probably why I was so entrenched in sadness today. Noone was there today to see it. I looked around for those I had made memories with....I expected them all to be there, lined up, waving to me with the same grief filled happiness I have of moving on.
Brent, Jeff, Scooby, & Brian, whom came over to my house more often than once to use it as a base for strategic operations upon girls' houses the likes of which the town of Inver Grove could never conceive of. The Cazas, The Taylors, & Dan, who on numerous occasions helped my Mother (with her breaking wrists) and me (with my seizures). Joe, whom almost never set foot in my house due to the supreme reign of cat fur..... & Katie, whom I made the most memories with in that house, nearly our first everythings.
But they weren't there to see it. They all have their own lives now...and only one of them has remained my friend throughout it all...Joe.
So what does one do when he/she loses half of their life in a single moment?
You keep driving, deciding to make new memories with those who ARE lined up waiting for you.
Thank you Joe, Kara, Dom, Brian, Elise....