Illusions and Dreams, as Usual it Seems...
Steel. Were my people smiths, or were they awarded the name for some other reason? I haven't cried lately. I didn't much cry when my grandfather died, bucking and wheezing like an animal before my eyes. I didn't cry when my uncle died, a random tragedy of the road and rainstorm. I don't remember what I was crying about last, it was probably some sentimental media like Cold Case, or maybe the song Basket by Dan Mangan. Maybe I've just got so much emotional shit hitting the fan right now that I’ve just shut down. I’m in Standby Mode. My theatre class is triggering me emotionally, and my parents have come back after three months, and my grandma who is 80 and ailing might be coming to live with us soon, and I feel guilty about all the friends I've barely been in touch with since I've been back in Windor, and I'm terrified about what comes after graduation, and of course to top it all off I’ve got various stages of relationship catalyzing in various ways. Of course, it never rains but it pours. So I try to keep my playlist positive. I limit myself to small, safe expressions of emotion, like swearing at my computer or singing a song. I use various chemicals to feel like I have some control. And in the end, I still find myself feeling ill-equipped to Make Life Work.
I dunno, I like to think of myself as fairly low-maintenance, as someone who doesn’t court the drama llama; still, something in me must enjoy it, even when it’s leaving me black-and-blue, because I seem unable to resist these situations. Is it the desire for a Hollywood ending, against all odds, or the lure of the unattainable, or the WASPish tendency to believe that if you don’t have to suffer for it, it isn’t worth having? I want to prove myself, I’m the hero of my own story…but then, I’m a coward when it counts. So afraid of doing the wrong thing that I do nothing at all, or push for a quixotic crash-and-burn.
I want to do the right thing. I would never steal anyone's mate from them. I may not be the most Alpha of gents, but I still believe in vows, and honour, and doing what’s best for everyone involved. It was she who claimed me in the first place - more than a year ago now, believe it or not - and if she needs to let me go for the sake of her Primary that's her prerogative. Still, there's a part of me that hurts, and wants to hurt. Maybe that's why I packed the bindle - to be too cool, too calm, too caring. Palliative, passive-aggressive, or something in between? I'm no Spike, to solve relationship problems by tying someone up until they come around...even if maybe that would work, in the short term at least. But it's like Richard Bach said, if you love someone, set them free. If they come back, they're yours; if they don't, they never were. The future's a big place, and I gotta believe the present is more than just the random and absurd thrashings of a cosmic cephalopod. When a door closes, a window opens, right? They tell me she was reckless with my heart, but I knew the risks when I signed on; anyhow, I don't regret a thing, except perhaps not expressing more love when I had the chance.
I dunno, I like to think of myself as fairly low-maintenance, as someone who doesn’t court the drama llama; still, something in me must enjoy it, even when it’s leaving me black-and-blue, because I seem unable to resist these situations. Is it the desire for a Hollywood ending, against all odds, or the lure of the unattainable, or the WASPish tendency to believe that if you don’t have to suffer for it, it isn’t worth having? I want to prove myself, I’m the hero of my own story…but then, I’m a coward when it counts. So afraid of doing the wrong thing that I do nothing at all, or push for a quixotic crash-and-burn.
I want to do the right thing. I would never steal anyone's mate from them. I may not be the most Alpha of gents, but I still believe in vows, and honour, and doing what’s best for everyone involved. It was she who claimed me in the first place - more than a year ago now, believe it or not - and if she needs to let me go for the sake of her Primary that's her prerogative. Still, there's a part of me that hurts, and wants to hurt. Maybe that's why I packed the bindle - to be too cool, too calm, too caring. Palliative, passive-aggressive, or something in between? I'm no Spike, to solve relationship problems by tying someone up until they come around...even if maybe that would work, in the short term at least. But it's like Richard Bach said, if you love someone, set them free. If they come back, they're yours; if they don't, they never were. The future's a big place, and I gotta believe the present is more than just the random and absurd thrashings of a cosmic cephalopod. When a door closes, a window opens, right? They tell me she was reckless with my heart, but I knew the risks when I signed on; anyhow, I don't regret a thing, except perhaps not expressing more love when I had the chance.