An overdue update.
Well.
It would certainly appear that I have neglected this journal for some time. My apologies - my writings as of late have been dark and quite personal; hence, not meant for posting here. Through a prodding from Hank, I've realized I need to begin to update this more often, instead of just expecting people to call and check in on me.
Things have been incredibly rough. While my last relationship ended well over 5 and a half months ago, the pain is still....remniscient. Certain things, certain...memories still linger. Do I miss the endlessness of that final time together? In a way, yes and no - yes for the constant care that was always there, and no for the bitterness that formed before the inevitable. Nevertheless, I refuse to let it get me down. While a part of my memory will forever remember the times shared, both good and bad, the heart heals, and the pain of memory fades. The prophesy "time heals all wounds" seemed to be a cliche phrase to me; then I realized that cliches are routed in everyday statements, and in things that everyone has experienced. Hence...it appropriately fits.
I honestly don't know how many of you actually read this journal anymore. Many of us have gone on to bigger and better things. In the grand recap of its lifespan, I seem to progress from annoying lovestruck freshman, to bitter, dark depressive sophmore, to mildly philosophical junior, to angry ranting but tame-able senior in the course of four years worth of entires. Quite a progression, to say the least.
Time seems to just keep on. I picture it more like a river, with it's slow, lazy points, and it's fast bubbling rapids. If you've ever thrown a stick into the water and watched it drift downstream...you'll notice that it inevitably becomes stuck on something. That's what I feel like right now. Everyone's....gone on. Or is far enough behind me to be a distant speck. So many transitions. Josh and Mary, new lives and a new apartment, too far away for random gatherings. Joe, in Toledo, with the promise to come home in a few months. Andy, soon in Cincinnati, with Bill. Sarah with Jim. Allie and Brian. Rusty. All...new lives.
I've recessed to living in my parent's house again; something I swore I'd never do again if I could avoid it. Though going on in my studies, I've stagnated myself in personal growth. I have no goals, no vision, aside from the career I'm working towards. I don't meet new people. I have no choice, and I feel so trapped that I'm terrified.
I called 9 people to go to dinner tonight on the way home. No one was available. Circumstance? Probably. Socially/Emotionally crippling? In ways you wouldn't imagine.
Adrift, on an ocean of my own making. Without sails or a paddle, I'm at the current's mercy. Only time will tell where it leads me next.
Does this read depressing to anyone else? Sorry, I was in quite a mood when I started writing it, but the evening is not lost - I've still some TV to look forward to. Having finished the restoration project on the Jeep, my focus now moves on to the '68 Cutlass. Quite a large leap by most standards, but quite possible. I'll post some pics of the new Jeep just as soon as I can - digital camera helpers, this is your call.
It's not as bleak as it seems, I know. Sometimes I just need to write to get things off of my chest. Things will look up. There's no where to go but up after rock bottom. Just tolerate me and bear with me a little longer...and I promise I'll make it up to you somehow in the long run.
I swear...no, I vow it.
It would certainly appear that I have neglected this journal for some time. My apologies - my writings as of late have been dark and quite personal; hence, not meant for posting here. Through a prodding from Hank, I've realized I need to begin to update this more often, instead of just expecting people to call and check in on me.
Things have been incredibly rough. While my last relationship ended well over 5 and a half months ago, the pain is still....remniscient. Certain things, certain...memories still linger. Do I miss the endlessness of that final time together? In a way, yes and no - yes for the constant care that was always there, and no for the bitterness that formed before the inevitable. Nevertheless, I refuse to let it get me down. While a part of my memory will forever remember the times shared, both good and bad, the heart heals, and the pain of memory fades. The prophesy "time heals all wounds" seemed to be a cliche phrase to me; then I realized that cliches are routed in everyday statements, and in things that everyone has experienced. Hence...it appropriately fits.
I honestly don't know how many of you actually read this journal anymore. Many of us have gone on to bigger and better things. In the grand recap of its lifespan, I seem to progress from annoying lovestruck freshman, to bitter, dark depressive sophmore, to mildly philosophical junior, to angry ranting but tame-able senior in the course of four years worth of entires. Quite a progression, to say the least.
Time seems to just keep on. I picture it more like a river, with it's slow, lazy points, and it's fast bubbling rapids. If you've ever thrown a stick into the water and watched it drift downstream...you'll notice that it inevitably becomes stuck on something. That's what I feel like right now. Everyone's....gone on. Or is far enough behind me to be a distant speck. So many transitions. Josh and Mary, new lives and a new apartment, too far away for random gatherings. Joe, in Toledo, with the promise to come home in a few months. Andy, soon in Cincinnati, with Bill. Sarah with Jim. Allie and Brian. Rusty. All...new lives.
I've recessed to living in my parent's house again; something I swore I'd never do again if I could avoid it. Though going on in my studies, I've stagnated myself in personal growth. I have no goals, no vision, aside from the career I'm working towards. I don't meet new people. I have no choice, and I feel so trapped that I'm terrified.
I called 9 people to go to dinner tonight on the way home. No one was available. Circumstance? Probably. Socially/Emotionally crippling? In ways you wouldn't imagine.
Adrift, on an ocean of my own making. Without sails or a paddle, I'm at the current's mercy. Only time will tell where it leads me next.
Does this read depressing to anyone else? Sorry, I was in quite a mood when I started writing it, but the evening is not lost - I've still some TV to look forward to. Having finished the restoration project on the Jeep, my focus now moves on to the '68 Cutlass. Quite a large leap by most standards, but quite possible. I'll post some pics of the new Jeep just as soon as I can - digital camera helpers, this is your call.
It's not as bleak as it seems, I know. Sometimes I just need to write to get things off of my chest. Things will look up. There's no where to go but up after rock bottom. Just tolerate me and bear with me a little longer...and I promise I'll make it up to you somehow in the long run.
I swear...no, I vow it.