(no subject)

[spitblood]

it wasn't just her. the immense sadness, the crushing defeat, the empty void where my sense of self used to live - these were just measurable aspects of a much larger construct. it wasn't the loss of her, it was the loss of faith that accompanied her leaving. it was the belief that i wouldn't end up like my parents, it was the idea that i was somehow different and blessed, it was the crashing down of reality and the kind of loneliness you can only feel when you go from an individual unaffected by probability to someone that's just like everyone else - the solitude of absolute conformity and the realization that you're not special, that this is really happening, and that odds are (which now apply to you) you will not get back together.

it's also the perceived impossibility of bridging that gap to "comfortable familiarity" with someone else. how does "hello?" in some dark place turn into a person i can share my insecurities with? how is this happy, giggling person going to turn into someone that understands my melancholy mood shifts and do i even want to transform them into that person anyway?

it seems that the "magic" of love is either the newness of the feeling, mistaken lust, or the magic that someone else can end up filling that void in yourself and - against all odds, insecurities, and imperfections - love you back.

and all of a sudden, the odds don't apply to me anymore. mine is truly a blessed existence.