(no subject)
I’m in a rut, a hole, whatever. I thought September would be better, and I guess in some ways it is. I have things to focus on and tasks to complete, but the overarching feeling from the last month is still here. I want it to go away so badly. Last night I was hell bent on watching love actually, or sleepless in seattle, or really anything that was guaranteed to make me cry. Netflix had removed all of them. I wouldn’t let myself get out the dvds because that was too purposeful an action. I don’t have access to prime and hbo go let me down. My laptop uninstalled my torrent client without my permission. I ended up watching old comedy specials instead.
Today I had class, and homework I only half did. I thought that having something to do would be nice but instead between traffic and my classmates I just wanted to crawl up and pretend it was December.
So I got home and tried to put on an episode of Dead Like Me, one I really shouldn’t watch, the one where death takes a holiday and everyone on the team sorts through peoples last thoughts. I’ve been thinking about this episode a lot lately. The “Why has nobody every loved me” aspect of it, and it’s a self involved thought, and a stupid one, but I’ve been having it more and more. Last night in a brief talk with Amanda she called me her most fiercely supportive friend. I like being that person and I hope I’m that in some capacity to everyone in my life, I just…I don’t know…caring to me is going out of my way to help with things, and feeling bad when I don’t. It’s listening to problems and wanting to hear about peoples days. It’s being someone people feel comfortable bitching to. I don’t want to say I need that from anyone, because I’m 26 and I’ve been single and self sufficient for so long, but I want it and that already feels like a failure. This time last year I didn’t want this. I mean I wanted it but almost without knowing what it was I wanted, and now that I can almost taste some of it I’m panicked. It always feels like I’m seconds away from losing people and that I’m rushing that time by suffocating everyone with , well, me.
I’ve just tried so hard this last year. So hard. I’ve been open about so much and done so many things to better myself. And I did all of that for myself, I gained so much confidence and life experience and for so long that was enough.
When I was with my mom at the grocery store this weekend she started talking to an 86 year old lady who’s entire family had died, her husband had been gone for 8 years and they’d never had any kids. All she had was her neighbor to check in on her, my mom thought it sounded sad but I wanted to start crying. I’m so scared that will be me, or more accurately I won’t even get the husband, it’ll just be me, all alone, with near strangers to maybe check in on me, maybe, if I’m lucky. Like I want so many things out of life, and I’m not ready to settle down or anything serious, but at this point I also don’t see another outcome.
So I guess I get to be the girl who’s a year away from finishing her masters degree, who was surprised by the immensely positive feedback from her internship and is always trying to see more, read more, be more. I get to be the girl who takes pictures of everything and hopes that someone will actually want to see them, who always texts first and plans more. Who has to consciously remember not to be upset about checking 1 on all wedding invitations.
For once I’d like to be surprised, or at least feel sure about anyone else’s feelings that I don’t crave a random shower of affection.
I don’t want to be dwelling on this now, and I don’t want to be crying. I don’t know how to make myself better here when I’ve already done so much to fix myself. And I wish this was all about M, or at least mostly about him. Yeah, things could be better there but there’s nothing short of 1700 miles that will make me feel sure about it, and I can’t imagine that changing any time soon and I don’t see a time for things to slow down.