Won't it be odd to be happy...
His face, smiling and unsure
overwhelmed with the force of our love
glowing and ginger golden, the way I always see him,
always smiling.
His face tonight the same as every other night,
and still different because he knew finally
what there was to know
that the rope he's worked at weaving for years
was long enough at last.
I can't sleep. Not because I'm unhappy, precisely, but more because I'm thinking too much and I can't convince my brain to turn off, to let go for a while. I keep thinking of all the things that I have to get done, but I can't get them done, and I can't find the motivation to do them. I have work to do for my internship, for my independent study, important letters to write, and yet, when I think about doing any of these things, I just feel so tired. I was thinking tonight at the concert that I don't really grieve about anything anymore. I feel like I haven't let myself be really sad, honestly sad, for so long. I have no problem with joy... I can be happy, genuinely happy without a problem, but I can't be sad. Whenever I start to let myself feel sad, I choke it back somehow, and then there's nothing there anymore after a few minutes. Sarah played a song called "Dogs and Thunder" about her old dog that had to be put to sleep, and I tried for the first couple minutes of it to try to keep myself from crying, from feeling anything. I was thinking about anything other than the words she was saying, I was thinking about Kelly making the drunk face, and monkeys throwing their feces, and anything at all, but then I thought, "What am I doing?" And I just let myself start to cry, and think about Quilts, and think about losing her, and how horrible it was, and how I don't let myself cry over her or think about her except in passing, and how ridiculous that is. I've become some sort of robot, I think. I need to go talk to someone about this... I can't keep being this way.
overwhelmed with the force of our love
glowing and ginger golden, the way I always see him,
always smiling.
His face tonight the same as every other night,
and still different because he knew finally
what there was to know
that the rope he's worked at weaving for years
was long enough at last.
I can't sleep. Not because I'm unhappy, precisely, but more because I'm thinking too much and I can't convince my brain to turn off, to let go for a while. I keep thinking of all the things that I have to get done, but I can't get them done, and I can't find the motivation to do them. I have work to do for my internship, for my independent study, important letters to write, and yet, when I think about doing any of these things, I just feel so tired. I was thinking tonight at the concert that I don't really grieve about anything anymore. I feel like I haven't let myself be really sad, honestly sad, for so long. I have no problem with joy... I can be happy, genuinely happy without a problem, but I can't be sad. Whenever I start to let myself feel sad, I choke it back somehow, and then there's nothing there anymore after a few minutes. Sarah played a song called "Dogs and Thunder" about her old dog that had to be put to sleep, and I tried for the first couple minutes of it to try to keep myself from crying, from feeling anything. I was thinking about anything other than the words she was saying, I was thinking about Kelly making the drunk face, and monkeys throwing their feces, and anything at all, but then I thought, "What am I doing?" And I just let myself start to cry, and think about Quilts, and think about losing her, and how horrible it was, and how I don't let myself cry over her or think about her except in passing, and how ridiculous that is. I've become some sort of robot, I think. I need to go talk to someone about this... I can't keep being this way.