(no subject)
So, yeah, I miss oregon girl way more than I let on. To anyone. Especially her. That's just how things are with me.. I'll very likely always miss her, and if there ever reaches a point in which we are actually able to be friends, I'll likely still always want her. I miss her body. I miss her smell. I miss her quiet, cute ways of doing the most innocuous things.. I miss talking to her. I miss having her remind me what it was like to have life, energy, creativity, that... spark... I miss being friends with her. I'll move on. I'll see others. I'll quite likely even have others join her ranks on the list of "women I wish I was still with".. but that won't ever make the longing in me go away. I can tell that she's met someone new, just by how sad it makes me, when I think about how much I miss her.. I know that prolly sounds strange, but it's always been that way for me, and I don't even need confirmation this time, I just know. She's happy, and I'm alone. I can't even truly be happy for her.. story of my life.
I quit smoking again. Pretty much right after she left for good. It's funny how often that happens with me.. I just.. I don't know, it's like I associate the feelings of loss of not being able to talk to her, to be with her, to enjoy her even her friendship, with that of the cravings and the withdrawel from the nicotine, and it just doesn't matter how bad they get.. Can't have her, can't have the cigarettes.. Eventually, the cravings die down, and i pretend the longings have, right alongside them. Pathetic perhaps, but true nonetheless..
I realized something in the last couple of days.. See, it has come to my attention that someone I know IRL might suddenly be starting to stumble across these and read them, and, well, pretty much this whole journal, from start to finish, even the old bits that were written in french are almost entirely about the women entering and leaving my life (oregon girl, ocean girl, england girl, even too-young-for-me girl.. the list is surprisingly long).. Why is that? I don't know. When I was a kid, like, 12-13, I started my first diary. The old fashioned kind with lots of blank pages and a pen.. After about five different attempts at writing, each about just how down and depressing and suicidal my life was, I finally got fed up and tore out every single page and threw them away, and found myself completely bereft of anything better to talk about, even just to myself.. So, here I am, a good twice that age over again, and I look back over the years of writing in this thing, and I see the same exact thing.. Me writing about a girl I long for.. Me writing about how she left. Me writing about how I'm upset.. Me writing, sometimes years later, about how I never truly got over her.. Me writing about another girl.. etc.. I can say the cycle's being broken, I can pretend that I'm never going to let such and such happen again, and I end up right back here, again.. Missing someone that's met someone else and is fine with that fact..
Someone I would have happily married, if given half the chance, and better luck than what I've been given..
So, yeah.. there's some other stuff, with other women.. Farmington girl and her enthusiasm, despite my not really being interested (or worse, causing).. Boston girl, and her going for my roommate while on the trip I planned pretty much as an excuse just to spend time with her and hopefully start something between me and her (yay! and I got made out to be a comeplete jackass by going on and on to her about my roommate and his gf, not having a bloody clue that I was literally the only one on the trip who didn't know he was already single. Isn't that fun??).. And your random who really cares in the grander scheme of things type stuff.. Bills, Kansas city girl, my wanting to move out away from my roommate before all this shit hit the fan involving him and boston girl.. Where, exactly, that leaves my feelings towards his now ex (who is also one of mine).. Stuff I'm just not ready to pile on with all the rest that's already there, waiting for me to deal with..
I miss Spandex. I miss Xast. I miss those that have left my life, and have yet to return. I hate feeling loss, every single time I turn around. I miss oregon girl. I miss being friends with her. I miss being able to be happy for her. I miss my roommate's ex. I miss knowing she was happy, even if I wasn't the cause. I miss the safety that comes with being with someone you know you can love, and love for as long as needed, if not longer.. I miss being somewhere in my life.. I feel so... back on the bottom rung again. It sucks. a lot.
I quit smoking again. Pretty much right after she left for good. It's funny how often that happens with me.. I just.. I don't know, it's like I associate the feelings of loss of not being able to talk to her, to be with her, to enjoy her even her friendship, with that of the cravings and the withdrawel from the nicotine, and it just doesn't matter how bad they get.. Can't have her, can't have the cigarettes.. Eventually, the cravings die down, and i pretend the longings have, right alongside them. Pathetic perhaps, but true nonetheless..
I realized something in the last couple of days.. See, it has come to my attention that someone I know IRL might suddenly be starting to stumble across these and read them, and, well, pretty much this whole journal, from start to finish, even the old bits that were written in french are almost entirely about the women entering and leaving my life (oregon girl, ocean girl, england girl, even too-young-for-me girl.. the list is surprisingly long).. Why is that? I don't know. When I was a kid, like, 12-13, I started my first diary. The old fashioned kind with lots of blank pages and a pen.. After about five different attempts at writing, each about just how down and depressing and suicidal my life was, I finally got fed up and tore out every single page and threw them away, and found myself completely bereft of anything better to talk about, even just to myself.. So, here I am, a good twice that age over again, and I look back over the years of writing in this thing, and I see the same exact thing.. Me writing about a girl I long for.. Me writing about how she left. Me writing about how I'm upset.. Me writing, sometimes years later, about how I never truly got over her.. Me writing about another girl.. etc.. I can say the cycle's being broken, I can pretend that I'm never going to let such and such happen again, and I end up right back here, again.. Missing someone that's met someone else and is fine with that fact..
Someone I would have happily married, if given half the chance, and better luck than what I've been given..
So, yeah.. there's some other stuff, with other women.. Farmington girl and her enthusiasm, despite my not really being interested (or worse, causing).. Boston girl, and her going for my roommate while on the trip I planned pretty much as an excuse just to spend time with her and hopefully start something between me and her (yay! and I got made out to be a comeplete jackass by going on and on to her about my roommate and his gf, not having a bloody clue that I was literally the only one on the trip who didn't know he was already single. Isn't that fun??).. And your random who really cares in the grander scheme of things type stuff.. Bills, Kansas city girl, my wanting to move out away from my roommate before all this shit hit the fan involving him and boston girl.. Where, exactly, that leaves my feelings towards his now ex (who is also one of mine).. Stuff I'm just not ready to pile on with all the rest that's already there, waiting for me to deal with..
I miss Spandex. I miss Xast. I miss those that have left my life, and have yet to return. I hate feeling loss, every single time I turn around. I miss oregon girl. I miss being friends with her. I miss being able to be happy for her. I miss my roommate's ex. I miss knowing she was happy, even if I wasn't the cause. I miss the safety that comes with being with someone you know you can love, and love for as long as needed, if not longer.. I miss being somewhere in my life.. I feel so... back on the bottom rung again. It sucks. a lot.