Sunday, April 29, 2012

I Got a F*#king Pen.

When you are most vulnerable and pour out your soul to someone, you open yourself up to pain.  You hope that all those personal things you share are being met with real connection, and that you're not exposing yourself to someone callous.  To be fair, I don't think that we do.  I think that in those moments, we are sharing ourselves with another person who wants to understand who we are and how we became that way.  I believe that they want to see that you are more than the hurt you may feel and show you how amazing you are through their eyes.

The sad thing is, these feelings change.  When you're not together every moment, your situation can become "out of sight and out of mind."  If you have something else that is calling your name, it is very easy to be swayed to do what you feel you ought instead of what it is you want to do.  Though the heart may want what it wants, some people are so set on being "responsible" that the risk of happiness isn't one they're willing to take.

I have a very, very, very dear friend, who I am afraid I've lost.  Maybe not forever.  Or maybe I'll never again get the opportunity to speak with him in any meaningful way.  I just don't know.  What I do know is that distance was an issue for us, and though I wanted to visit and spend time with him, it was never convenient to his schedule.  I wanted to just hang out, be together, do stupid best friend kind of things.  I half jokingly, half quite seriously told him, "You're going to forget that you adore me.  Please let me come see you."  Work won out.

He's found a girlfriend now.  It's not that I don't want his happiness.  In fact, that's what I want for him more than anything else in the world.  What it means for me, however, is quite sad.  All of those things he used to share with me, just a month or two ago, that's all saved for her now.  The things I thought were simply talk between the best of friends -- it was something that he can only share with the primary person in his life.  I've been eliminated from the picture.  When we'd talked about being "Forever Friends," I'd taken it so to heart.  I wanted someone that was never, ever going away.  I'd counted on my best friend being there forever.

As much as I am grateful for his happiness, I am filled with sorrow for my loss.  I lost my best fucking friend.  I am jealous beyond belief of the time that they spend together because I know how it is.  I know that he tells her things he couldn't or wouldn't tell another soul.  I know that they share moments of silly, goofy fun.  I know that everyday they send emails that are trivial and text all night.  These meaningless yet so important things used to be mine.  It's not that I'm not willing to share.  I just didn't expect it all to go away.  I thought I'd get to keep some of him.

Maybe some of this will turn around.  Maybe with time he'll remember who I am and miss me like I miss him.  Maybe he'll realize that there's no reason we can't be friends.  Maybe, maybe, maybe.

I know he feels bad about hurting me.  I know he didn't want me to feel second best.  This was proven on my birthday when he sent me far more than he should have, when he actually called instead of texted, when he told me he loved me and he was sorry if I was sad.  I appreciate it all; I appreciate it as it was intended, but for a long time it's going to feel like I got a motherfucking pen.

Friday, April 13, 2012

The More Things Change, The More They Stay the Same.

I haven't even thought about visiting this blog since early 2011. I was unemployed that winter/spring, and just bored out of my mind. I'd written about any and every thing I could come up. I was done. I realized how dull I was and realized no one would be interested in reading any further.

A random almost-stranger sent me an email, saying that I should update the blog. He wanted "more Snoopy and Charlie Brown reviews!!! Update your blog! Do it!!" I tried for a little bit, but all there really was was a story about strangers that sought to help me out of a snow bank. I enrolled in some classes out of boredom and a need to get the pittance provided by easy access to student loan cash. With every new assignment, the blog drifted farther away. By the time summer arrived, it was out of my head completely

Since then, I've become employed. I've been absorbed by the new job. Mainly I think this has to do with the ability to throw myself into something that completely takes up my life, leaving me without time to think about all the situations I'd like to see changed. I guess that's what a lot of workaholics do, though. If you don't like your personal life, throw yourself into a professional one. If I work until 8:00 or later in my office, then I don't have to come home and interact. I don't have to tend relationships or friendships or even myself. I just tend to work, to a job that supplies a never-ending supply of need.

I'm not even entirely sure what pulled me back to this tonight. I've started a new blog recently, considering this one an abandoned housing complex in a Japanese suburb. It's a place I never thought anyone looked at anyway, so why bother with it? Several things have caught my attention tonight, however. The first thing is that there were actually comments left on some of the posts. It amazed me! I don't know how anyone ever came across this sad little blog, and I'm not sure why they took the time to read any of it. Though the things posted here all mean something to me (maybe just a bit, maybe a great deal), it seems surreal they would have captured someone else's attention. And the second thing I noticed was that I couldn't remember writing most of this. Some people keep whatever they've written in their head for all time. For me, it's gone. I have literally read my words before thinking "wow. This person and I think a lot alike." As I've re-read things, I've been made painfully aware of how many truly personal things I've shared here. I don't have a good explanation as to why. All the really inner things that you're supposed to keep private, it seems as if I went out of my way to put them down on virtual paper to share with anyone who cares to see it. I realize, also, how lonely my life really is. Not just before, but now, too. There are so few people with whom to share my thoughts that are truly curious. It seems that you find someone you believe yourself to connect with, and then they remove themselves from your life without any explanation. The lonliness still prevails, as does my natural melancholia.

If you were to ask me how I think I portray myself to the average person, I'd say friendly and upbeat, without revealing too much of who I really am. I like to think that I keep all real thoughts, and more importantly, feelings, hidden. I want to project myself as happy and brave. I don't think I pull it off.

Initially, this blog was actually going to be a sort-of response to the blog "1000 Awesome Things." I figured I'd dream up a lot of things that aren't life-altering things to make you unhappy, but just sort-of suck. Friendly pessimism, I guess. I didn't have enough of those, though. I had to really look to find them. As contrary as it seems, the same person that is almost constantly tinged with sadness is also an almost blindingly shiny optimist that almost always sees the good of life and the happiness that exists there. A lot of it, clearly, is  bound up in popular culture, whether it be modern or nostalgic.

Like a lot of things in my life, I don't really know what the fate of this blog will be. I suspect I'll pop in from time to time, consider removing it from public view altogether, and then leave it alone out of a sense of the bits of connection it has offered in my life. I'm going to add it to my list of things that sort of suck. It's not the most terrible thing that could exist, not by a long shot. Nor is it grand. It's somewhere in the middle, sort of sucking.