Seeing Me Smile
"...that was the first time in two years I saw that grin"- Poldo
I came from Mag:net where I met Pepper and his friends and had one glass of blue vodka. I knew I was buzzed but not strong enough to incapacitate my reasoning or my senses. I still knew I needed to get home, and I knew where to direct the driver when I decided to reroute to Poldo and where he and his friends were eating that night.
He texted me that today, sounding relieved and somewhat amused by the grin I gave.
I gave the whatever-you-do-I'm-going-to-laugh-my-brains-out grin. and I did. Any little thing they did or said made me laugh. I didn't laugh to scandalize the whole restaurant, but laugh which caused a slight bit of panic in my companion's thoughts.
Personally, after reading that text, it was more than that.
I would smile, sure, laugh, even the pounding kind of laughter that got my sides hurting. But I sort of knew what Poldo met.
It was my old grin, one I haven't used in a long time.
People say I enjoy wallowing in my pain and fear, and maybe they're right. As much as I am happy with the way things are in my life, I can't help but recall what I've lost.
It is an old topic, one that sends sparks of angst, disappointment and other evil things brewing in the heads of my friends and family. I don't recall much anymore, the good memories shrouded by the emptiness I am still feeling up to now. I have learned to get up, dust myself clean and move on. I didn't mention anything about leaving it behind.
I carry it around me like a cross, a symbol of what I strive to overcome. I consider it an accomplishment, a feat that I can hurdle anything despite the pain and fear. I smile a lot, my students always make me laugh, but I feel hollow and empty still.
I have crushes, I am interested, I still go out there, but I have learned not to expect, rather than risk getting hurt again.
I saw it. During my retreat. How I have put up walls to protect myself from people when they decide to leave like plenty have done. I know friends come and go, and how God can even snatch them at their youth, but I haven't learned to overcome the pain, or maybe I just don't want to feel it at all.
I'm a coward.
I connect with friends, asking how they are, talking about myself, even laughing along with them. But I realized, apart from MIKKAELA, all of my friends are distant people to me. I chose to become detached, because I foresaw their going, their leaving. Rather than get hurt, I would show that I didn't care at all.
Even if Poldo said that the last time was my first bottle of Red Horse, I still knew what it meant to me.
My heart is still hurting...
I came from Mag:net where I met Pepper and his friends and had one glass of blue vodka. I knew I was buzzed but not strong enough to incapacitate my reasoning or my senses. I still knew I needed to get home, and I knew where to direct the driver when I decided to reroute to Poldo and where he and his friends were eating that night.
He texted me that today, sounding relieved and somewhat amused by the grin I gave.
I gave the whatever-you-do-I'm-going-to-laugh-my-brains-out grin. and I did. Any little thing they did or said made me laugh. I didn't laugh to scandalize the whole restaurant, but laugh which caused a slight bit of panic in my companion's thoughts.
Personally, after reading that text, it was more than that.
I would smile, sure, laugh, even the pounding kind of laughter that got my sides hurting. But I sort of knew what Poldo met.
It was my old grin, one I haven't used in a long time.
People say I enjoy wallowing in my pain and fear, and maybe they're right. As much as I am happy with the way things are in my life, I can't help but recall what I've lost.
It is an old topic, one that sends sparks of angst, disappointment and other evil things brewing in the heads of my friends and family. I don't recall much anymore, the good memories shrouded by the emptiness I am still feeling up to now. I have learned to get up, dust myself clean and move on. I didn't mention anything about leaving it behind.
I carry it around me like a cross, a symbol of what I strive to overcome. I consider it an accomplishment, a feat that I can hurdle anything despite the pain and fear. I smile a lot, my students always make me laugh, but I feel hollow and empty still.
I have crushes, I am interested, I still go out there, but I have learned not to expect, rather than risk getting hurt again.
I saw it. During my retreat. How I have put up walls to protect myself from people when they decide to leave like plenty have done. I know friends come and go, and how God can even snatch them at their youth, but I haven't learned to overcome the pain, or maybe I just don't want to feel it at all.
I'm a coward.
I connect with friends, asking how they are, talking about myself, even laughing along with them. But I realized, apart from MIKKAELA, all of my friends are distant people to me. I chose to become detached, because I foresaw their going, their leaving. Rather than get hurt, I would show that I didn't care at all.
Even if Poldo said that the last time was my first bottle of Red Horse, I still knew what it meant to me.
My heart is still hurting...