(no subject)
so much has happened
and ive learned that the days that are supposed to be the biggest days of your life, never really are. living your entire life looking forward to a day, minute, or moment, ruins it. you are so acutely aware of what you should be feeling, what you thought you would be feeling, and what you are feeling, that you become completely consumed by previous assumptions, and the entire experience is entirely surreal. that shit did not happen. basically. but then, the best days, are the ones where you wake up expecting next to nothing. but then something so small, an apology, a sentence, a color, makes your day the BEST day.. brings out a feeling that youve never felt so strongly.
i went to prom. and it sucked.
i graduated. and that was kind of cool.
i went to college orientation. and it was rad.
on another note, apparently my guard isnt up as high as i thought it was, the walls surrounding my vulnerability are thick, sure, but made of wet sand, easily destructible by a measurable wave. and i think thats happening. and i can feel how wrong it is. so much of me is screaming WTF ARE YOU DOING. WEVE BEEN HERE BEFORE, DIDNT END SO WELL LAST TIME. and i dont want to continue. feeling things i havent felt in 9 months is scary shit. but i wont apologize for holding back, hesitating, and pulling away. my flight instinct far surpasses my instinct to fight when it comes to this. i like you, for sure. but i dont know if i trust you. i dont do games anymore. i dont tolerate bullshit. and with the protection i thought i had built so well for myself, sinking faster than the titanic, i dont want it to be too much too fast.
they want to spread moms ashes over a grave that my grandma bought a while ago. my grandpa will be buried next to it when he dies, so that is good. but i dont know how i feel. i dont cry about this anymore. at all. i love her and i miss her but life keeps going. so when we talked about it last night at ryans i was astonished at myself for not being able to control the sudden onset of tears. it was strange. the same thing happened when someone mentioned my dad selling the house. but i dont know how i feel about spreading her ashes there. i mean, dont you get cremated because you dont want to be put into a grave? part of me thinks its a good idea. for my dad at least. he does need to move on with his life. but that box is what we have left of her. i never thought i was attached to it, or even saw it as her. but i feel like a house without that piece of her would feel empty.
when someone dies, its hard to keep the mindset that they ever existed at all, almost like she becomes santa claus, a myth to keep my child hood magical and happy.. but she did exist, i remember her life. and that simple box and its contents is the reminder, the proof, that such a beautiful person once lived.
having a place to go and talk to her and leave flowers sounds nice sometimes, because its private. to an extent. id never bring anyone with me. but another wake or memorial? no. i dont want that. a tomb stone would feel like the final straw, the part where we let go completely. so final.
and letting go feels an awful lot like forgetting.
and ive learned that the days that are supposed to be the biggest days of your life, never really are. living your entire life looking forward to a day, minute, or moment, ruins it. you are so acutely aware of what you should be feeling, what you thought you would be feeling, and what you are feeling, that you become completely consumed by previous assumptions, and the entire experience is entirely surreal. that shit did not happen. basically. but then, the best days, are the ones where you wake up expecting next to nothing. but then something so small, an apology, a sentence, a color, makes your day the BEST day.. brings out a feeling that youve never felt so strongly.
i went to prom. and it sucked.
i graduated. and that was kind of cool.
i went to college orientation. and it was rad.
on another note, apparently my guard isnt up as high as i thought it was, the walls surrounding my vulnerability are thick, sure, but made of wet sand, easily destructible by a measurable wave. and i think thats happening. and i can feel how wrong it is. so much of me is screaming WTF ARE YOU DOING. WEVE BEEN HERE BEFORE, DIDNT END SO WELL LAST TIME. and i dont want to continue. feeling things i havent felt in 9 months is scary shit. but i wont apologize for holding back, hesitating, and pulling away. my flight instinct far surpasses my instinct to fight when it comes to this. i like you, for sure. but i dont know if i trust you. i dont do games anymore. i dont tolerate bullshit. and with the protection i thought i had built so well for myself, sinking faster than the titanic, i dont want it to be too much too fast.
they want to spread moms ashes over a grave that my grandma bought a while ago. my grandpa will be buried next to it when he dies, so that is good. but i dont know how i feel. i dont cry about this anymore. at all. i love her and i miss her but life keeps going. so when we talked about it last night at ryans i was astonished at myself for not being able to control the sudden onset of tears. it was strange. the same thing happened when someone mentioned my dad selling the house. but i dont know how i feel about spreading her ashes there. i mean, dont you get cremated because you dont want to be put into a grave? part of me thinks its a good idea. for my dad at least. he does need to move on with his life. but that box is what we have left of her. i never thought i was attached to it, or even saw it as her. but i feel like a house without that piece of her would feel empty.
when someone dies, its hard to keep the mindset that they ever existed at all, almost like she becomes santa claus, a myth to keep my child hood magical and happy.. but she did exist, i remember her life. and that simple box and its contents is the reminder, the proof, that such a beautiful person once lived.
having a place to go and talk to her and leave flowers sounds nice sometimes, because its private. to an extent. id never bring anyone with me. but another wake or memorial? no. i dont want that. a tomb stone would feel like the final straw, the part where we let go completely. so final.
and letting go feels an awful lot like forgetting.