(no subject)
So nobody ever looks at or updates their livejournal anymore. I decided maybe I would. Not that I have much to say...but...
I think I already read this to most people, but I decided to post i anyway. It's from that book that I was talking to max about when I think I said something along the lines of, "I'm reading....it's terrible." Actually, it's from this book called The History of Love, and it's really not that terrible...it's just weird.
okay, so it's wicked long...but I think it's really good/helpful/applies to a lot of people.
"If you remember the first time you saw Alma, you also remember the last. She was shaking her head. Or disappearing across a field. Or through your window. Come back, Alma! you shouted. Come back! Come back!
"But she didn't.
"And though you were grown up by then, you felt as lost as a child. And though your pride was broken, you felt as vast as your love for her. She was gone, and all that was left was the space where you'd grown around her, like a tree that grows around a fence.
"For a long time, it remained a hollow. Years, maybe. And when at last it was filled again, you knew that the new love you felt for a woman would have been impossible without Alma. If it weren't for her, there would have never been an empty space, or the need to fill it.
"Of course, there are certain cases in which the boy in question refuses to stop shouting at the top of his lungs for Alma. Stages a hunger strike. Pleads. Fills a book with his love. Carries on until she has no choice but to come back. Every time she tries to leave, knowing it's what has to be done, the boy stops her, begging like a fool. And so she always returns, no matter how often she leaves or how far she goes, appearing soundlessly behind him and covering his eyes with her hands, spoiling for him anyone who could ever come after her."
So this made me think of Dave of course. Because I'm dumb and I still dwell upon things. But this is probably the only constructive thing I've dwelled upon. I actually thought it was really helpful...and it made me realize for once that all that time we spent together wasn't such a waste after all. Maybe it was kind of a good thing to be that crushed. I think if it had ended any other way I would still like him. If that night after I chased after him like a crazy maniac, he had in fact decided to take me back, it probably would have just been awful anyway. And if I hadn't felt so much hate for him I wouldn't have wanted so badly to look elsewhere.
I guess I'm kind of starting to be friends with him now...sort of. We speak. But more than anything I kind of realized that there's no reason why I shouldn't be friends now. Alison told me the other night that he said Nantucket was actually really fun. And the more that I think about it, if I just think about Nantucket alone, minus everything that came after, it really was great. We were just friends, and it was nice, just like that. It makes me wish that it could be like that again. That we could just be friends, and I could talk to him about pretty much anything. I doubt that it's possible...but maybe.
Of course I'll probably like Dave for...well, until I forget about him. Last weekend during that day when it was like 70 degrees in the middle of January he came over to my house and jumped in my river. It was strange because it felt a lot like summer. And I guess for that day, it felt like we were back to the way that we were. Of course, now there's snow again, and I've been reminded of reality. But right now, I think I'm okay with it. I think I can handle listening to all the music that I once associated with him. I think I'm okay with the fact that he's forever stolen my favorite sweatpants...and that I still have this stupid fury purse he gave me. Last night I wished I hadn't thrown away these poker glasses he left at my house once. I guess you might say I've learned to live with it.
I think I already read this to most people, but I decided to post i anyway. It's from that book that I was talking to max about when I think I said something along the lines of, "I'm reading....it's terrible." Actually, it's from this book called The History of Love, and it's really not that terrible...it's just weird.
okay, so it's wicked long...but I think it's really good/helpful/applies to a lot of people.
"If you remember the first time you saw Alma, you also remember the last. She was shaking her head. Or disappearing across a field. Or through your window. Come back, Alma! you shouted. Come back! Come back!
"But she didn't.
"And though you were grown up by then, you felt as lost as a child. And though your pride was broken, you felt as vast as your love for her. She was gone, and all that was left was the space where you'd grown around her, like a tree that grows around a fence.
"For a long time, it remained a hollow. Years, maybe. And when at last it was filled again, you knew that the new love you felt for a woman would have been impossible without Alma. If it weren't for her, there would have never been an empty space, or the need to fill it.
"Of course, there are certain cases in which the boy in question refuses to stop shouting at the top of his lungs for Alma. Stages a hunger strike. Pleads. Fills a book with his love. Carries on until she has no choice but to come back. Every time she tries to leave, knowing it's what has to be done, the boy stops her, begging like a fool. And so she always returns, no matter how often she leaves or how far she goes, appearing soundlessly behind him and covering his eyes with her hands, spoiling for him anyone who could ever come after her."
So this made me think of Dave of course. Because I'm dumb and I still dwell upon things. But this is probably the only constructive thing I've dwelled upon. I actually thought it was really helpful...and it made me realize for once that all that time we spent together wasn't such a waste after all. Maybe it was kind of a good thing to be that crushed. I think if it had ended any other way I would still like him. If that night after I chased after him like a crazy maniac, he had in fact decided to take me back, it probably would have just been awful anyway. And if I hadn't felt so much hate for him I wouldn't have wanted so badly to look elsewhere.
I guess I'm kind of starting to be friends with him now...sort of. We speak. But more than anything I kind of realized that there's no reason why I shouldn't be friends now. Alison told me the other night that he said Nantucket was actually really fun. And the more that I think about it, if I just think about Nantucket alone, minus everything that came after, it really was great. We were just friends, and it was nice, just like that. It makes me wish that it could be like that again. That we could just be friends, and I could talk to him about pretty much anything. I doubt that it's possible...but maybe.
Of course I'll probably like Dave for...well, until I forget about him. Last weekend during that day when it was like 70 degrees in the middle of January he came over to my house and jumped in my river. It was strange because it felt a lot like summer. And I guess for that day, it felt like we were back to the way that we were. Of course, now there's snow again, and I've been reminded of reality. But right now, I think I'm okay with it. I think I can handle listening to all the music that I once associated with him. I think I'm okay with the fact that he's forever stolen my favorite sweatpants...and that I still have this stupid fury purse he gave me. Last night I wished I hadn't thrown away these poker glasses he left at my house once. I guess you might say I've learned to live with it.