a post
I'm putting Bowman ahead of my boyfriend, and I'm not sure if I am making the right decision. It's never been a question when choosing between Bowman and anything before, but since I've been home everything has been different. That one Saturday when Gen and Hinski were going to ballet, I chose sleep instead. What was I thinking? I was afraid that I wouldn't measure up to them anymore, afraid that too much time had passed. I feel so far apart from everything that used to be important to me. But maybe that's what growing up and moving on is about- maybe you have to consciously separate yourself from the things you used to care about in order to move forward.
I had always believed in the notion that if things are important enough to you, then you work to hold onto them. I have never been one to cast anything or anyone away without consideration.(ha, I still have this LJ even though no one uses it or reads it anymore) There was a time when I could have said that I have never been one to cast anything away at all.
I have this thing. I guess most people would call it a rag, but I call it my Bear Pillow. Only a couple people really know about it- It was a yellow pillow with small flower buds and a little bear on it that I had in my crib when I was a baby. I carried it everywhere. I guess everyone had something like that. The day my dad left I was sleeping on the floor in my sleeping bag with my pillow and my bear blanket on top of me. After that I was more attached to it than ever. As if holding onto this piece of fabric was like holding onto what little family I used to have. I needed it less and less as time went on, but it was always on my bed. It was just something that was there, made me feel more comfortable in what was an increasingly empty house and emotionless family. When I went to college I left it at home- people would have thought I was weird to have it there- but when I came home for that first break, I realized how much I missed the comfort of just having it there next to me. During that break, the piece of fabric that still had the bear attached to it fell off. I remember just looking at this shredded piece of cloth not knowing what to do with it. I couldn't throw it away, I couldn't sew it back on... I had no idea. I think I just left it on my dresser until we moved last summer. Everything got lost in the process.
I finally unpacked my room a couple weeks ago to make my boyfriend think I actually lived somewhere. Felt comfortable somewhere. While I was doing this, I found the bear stuck to the bottom of my metal trash can that random things I hadn't packed had been thrown into before we left the house for good. I stared at it for a while again, still not knowing what to do with it. I put it back on the top of my dresser, and I have a feeling that's where it's going to stay for quite a while.
That's pretty much how my whole life is. I'm wiling to hold onto something until it completely falls apart- until there's nothing left at all, not even a small piece of fabric to hold onto. Because, for some reason, I think holding onto that small piece is better than losing everything all together. It's true that I've started to change- I've been able to say goodbye to 'friends' that had been causing me pain for quite some time. But I often think about them, wonder how they are and what they're doing. Wonder if they ever think of me. I wonder if they realized all of these things that I'm just now developing the clarity to understand a long time ago. If all of their actions that caused me pain were just motions to get rid of what they felt were the unnecessary objects cluttering their lives. Am I an unnecessary object?
It's occurring to me that this is the first entry of substance that I've written in quite some time, and I might be coming off as though I'm unhappy, which is not the case at all. In the past year I've learned so much about myself and other people that I am able to feel things that I could have never dreamed of before. While I am still not comfortable with myself, I am coming to terms with my body and the life that I've been put into. I've made my peace with my past and I'm trying not to let it rule my future. I won't be governed by my parents mistakes with relationships, by my father's disregard for religion, by my mother's weaknesses. These are things that I have grown up surrounded by, but that doesn't mean they have to enter my life.
I am afraid of rejection, but I am not ruled by it. I am wary of men, but I do not distrust all of them. I trust my boyfriend, even though I don't trust him enough to completely tell him how I feel. Although I still recognize the problems with and reject organized religion, I do believe in a god of some form and I am not afraid to admit that anymore.
So I guess these have been my steps in cleaning out my clutter. I think I can hold onto those things that only make me feel more comfortable as long as I need to. The only things that need to be thrown away are those which cause pain or impede growth.
I hope everyone is doing well. I hope every once in a while you find the time to think of me too.