I cannot. (Warning: emo ahead.)
I cannot stop being angry with the boy who made me furious and indignant and miserable at the beginning of the summer. Every time I think of him, and every time something random reminds me of him, I get angry. When I get angry, I get sad, and then I end up being in a foul mood for the entirety of the day. (This means I must avoid ice cream and rock&roll. Ice cream, of all things! This is a tragedy because it is now summer, and ice cream is a staple. Alternatively, I can not avoid ice cream and attempt to pretend as though I am not falling apart on the inside, which is becoming increasingly more difficult to do. Do not even get me started on rock&roll.) I think it might be easier if I got to talk to him, but as much as I have tried to do so, through various media and at moderate intervals, I believe - i.e. no stalker-like emails or phone calls at every hour of every day - none of my attempts have worked. It has been more than a month. The most frustrating thing is that I can see evidence of his having communicated profusely with other people - thank you, Facebook and MySpace - but still, my attempts go unanswered. I cannot give him the benefit of the doubt for much longer. I cannot.
I cannot define him, based on his actions at the beginning of the summer and since, as anything other than a douchebag, but when I think of him as a douchebag, it breaks my heart, because through the entirety of our friendship, his name and the word "douchebag" never came into the same thought. I am torn. It might also be easier if I knew I would never have to see him again - easier in that with that knowledge, I would not have to worry about making reparations to our relationship, whatever the relationship turns out to be. But then, he would be out of my life completely, which I do not think I want. But then again, I do not know. At this point, all I know is that reparations must be made before I return to Boston in the fall, because of the current living arrangements, or else the metaphorical shit will hit the metaphorical fan. I do not know what else I can do, at this point, to try to fix things. I can only call and email so many times without becoming a stalker (which I refuse to be) and I cannot ask our mutual friends to try to make some influence, because as much as they are affected by this, they are not involved, and I cannot ask them to choose sides. I am at a loss. I do not know.
The thing in the world that I hate the most is not knowing. If I am not completely informed in any situation about anything, I get uncomfortable. This whole month and a half has just been a veritable profusion of lack of knowledge. I wonder, would things have been different if I had done something differently, said something differently? Would they be different if I had suggested putting a relationship change on Facebook (motherf#$&ing Facebook!) before the important and involved people were told personally, like we had intended? Would things be different if we had accomplished what we intended to the last night we were together? Would they be different if I had stayed in Boston for the summer instead of moving back to Edmonton? Or would none of it matter, and would things have happened this way regardless? I do not know. I do not know how to find out. I do not know, and that is what hurts me most of all.
..........
Sorry for the deluge of emo... ugh. But seriously, friends, I needed that. Thank you for indulging. Or not. Whatever.
I cannot define him, based on his actions at the beginning of the summer and since, as anything other than a douchebag, but when I think of him as a douchebag, it breaks my heart, because through the entirety of our friendship, his name and the word "douchebag" never came into the same thought. I am torn. It might also be easier if I knew I would never have to see him again - easier in that with that knowledge, I would not have to worry about making reparations to our relationship, whatever the relationship turns out to be. But then, he would be out of my life completely, which I do not think I want. But then again, I do not know. At this point, all I know is that reparations must be made before I return to Boston in the fall, because of the current living arrangements, or else the metaphorical shit will hit the metaphorical fan. I do not know what else I can do, at this point, to try to fix things. I can only call and email so many times without becoming a stalker (which I refuse to be) and I cannot ask our mutual friends to try to make some influence, because as much as they are affected by this, they are not involved, and I cannot ask them to choose sides. I am at a loss. I do not know.
The thing in the world that I hate the most is not knowing. If I am not completely informed in any situation about anything, I get uncomfortable. This whole month and a half has just been a veritable profusion of lack of knowledge. I wonder, would things have been different if I had done something differently, said something differently? Would they be different if I had suggested putting a relationship change on Facebook (motherf#$&ing Facebook!) before the important and involved people were told personally, like we had intended? Would things be different if we had accomplished what we intended to the last night we were together? Would they be different if I had stayed in Boston for the summer instead of moving back to Edmonton? Or would none of it matter, and would things have happened this way regardless? I do not know. I do not know how to find out. I do not know, and that is what hurts me most of all.
..........
Sorry for the deluge of emo... ugh. But seriously, friends, I needed that. Thank you for indulging. Or not. Whatever.