(no subject)
It's been a hellishly long month and I can't even begin to express how relieved I am to be off campus and away from people. Well, maybe I can, it just may take quite a bit of ranting...
I need to learn how to let go, to move on. Other people seem to manage it fairly well, and in quick time. But I can't seem to firmly un attach myself completely, or even to a comfortably tolerable level. I find myself so reluctant to to get giddy, hopeful, anticipatory, to let my guards down enough to trust another person with the power to hurt me, to actually feel, that when I find myself doing so they refuse to dissipate easily. They decide to linger, and since strong emotions are a rarity for me, strong associations are formed with so many small things that memories and sensations come flooding back to me at the most uncalled for moments. And I don't even know why it meant that much to me. An interaction that spanned little over a month, with only a week or so of physical contact even, doesn't seem like it should have so long lasting, risidual consequences. Granted I'd felt something there since the second time I saw her at a party the night before classes, but still. I blame the hopeless romantic inside me. There isn't much more to it. I'm a hopeless romantic teenager who's never been in love. There's that giddy girl inside me that want to fall in love with such a passion that it has the tendancy to eat her alive every once in a while, as silly as that sounds. Trapped inside me is a person who desperately wants to cuddle, to kiss someone, twirl around together in a sunny field somewhere or in the snow, surprise with a picnic and a bottle of wine, hold hands with and go for long walks through the woods talking about everything and anything, write and play songs on the guitar for, feed soup and tea as you stroke her hair when she's sick, kiss her eyelids when she wakes up in the morning, to be able to say and do those little things that you know will make them glow. That part of me is in there and is chaffing at it's bonds, anxiously looking for an outlet but failing to find one. It thought is found one, which I suppose is a large part of the problem. For some strange reason I let myself believe I could just possibly fall in love. By which I'm not saying I was falling in love, I'm far too rational for that, but that I had faith that I could fall in love with her. That's only happened once before, and didn't work out for obvious reasons. The romantic inside me was partially out, indulging in the power and beauty of words and bathing in the suspense of something even greater to be realized. And that realization was partially made, albeit somewhat drunkenly, but not fully. Now I'm stuck between craving that full realization and love and leaving the butterflies I had the pleasure to indulge in for a month behind.
I realize the above indicates the sensation of infatuation was produced mostly for the sake of it, not for her, which isn't the case. There was an immense amount of respect and amazement produced in me by her. I recall the disticnt impression of feeling myself grow a little more every time we spoke, of falling a little more with every peice of information she shared with me, her image becoming increasingly more beautiful in my minds eye. However, a significant portion of this sentiment changed with the realization that there were a fair number of unsavory aspects that accompanied the good, although I think that discovery was mutual. Sitting in this apartment in NY and listening to the same music as I did over Thanksgiving almost bring back the butterflies until I realize that I see her in a differnt light, as a different person, then I did then. Again, a part of me still regrets what happened and resents myself for fucking up. But then again, a larger part realizes and is begging to internalize the fact that it wasn't all my fault. Granted, it was probably my hand that set the rapid unraveling in motion, but it was perpetuated by a series of misunderstanings and whatever illogic was going on on her side of the equation. I wasn't the sole irrational one in the sitation. More importantly, I'd like the think I've come to it's probably a good thing whatever was going on between us didn't progress further. I'd like to think that I learn from my mistakes and once I've made one it can be checked off the list and not repeated. However, I also get the distinct impression that no matter how many times I repent for my sins, refrain from some actions and embrace others, there will always be plenty more to be made, plenty more reason for her to ignore me for a couple days, give me the cold shoulder. Basically, as she put it herself, we'd drive each other crazy. I just wish certian things had a reset button, or even a fix it button. You'd be able to progress past the awkward or change things so it didn't exist. Even if when I am able to let go of the romantically affectionate attachment I have for a person I was involved with, there's still a bit of residue. I am unable to go from sweethearts to aquaitences. Maybe it's because I can't form any sort of relationship with someone I wasn't already intimate with on a friendship level, but whatever the case I still yearn for that friendship, that state of intamacy free of awkward and resentment, but I don't think she's found that yet, at least judging by the cold non- chalence she treats me with. Maybe I'm just naive and young, which definitly is a disinct possibility, but I'd like to think that's possible. I know my life doesn't fit into a lifetime move special and don't expect anything more to happen there, I just can't help but feel that after the words and messages exchanged over intersession, the looks and touches traded that Sunday night, the simple smiles and kisses previously, that I can't just be dropped from her life entirely, or left to become one of those people you engage in small talk when you encounter them at the gazebo or something. But I could be wrong.
I still have quite a bit more of this ranting business to so on a number of other subjects, but I think I'll save those segments for tomorrow because it's getting late and sleep would be good at some point...
I need to learn how to let go, to move on. Other people seem to manage it fairly well, and in quick time. But I can't seem to firmly un attach myself completely, or even to a comfortably tolerable level. I find myself so reluctant to to get giddy, hopeful, anticipatory, to let my guards down enough to trust another person with the power to hurt me, to actually feel, that when I find myself doing so they refuse to dissipate easily. They decide to linger, and since strong emotions are a rarity for me, strong associations are formed with so many small things that memories and sensations come flooding back to me at the most uncalled for moments. And I don't even know why it meant that much to me. An interaction that spanned little over a month, with only a week or so of physical contact even, doesn't seem like it should have so long lasting, risidual consequences. Granted I'd felt something there since the second time I saw her at a party the night before classes, but still. I blame the hopeless romantic inside me. There isn't much more to it. I'm a hopeless romantic teenager who's never been in love. There's that giddy girl inside me that want to fall in love with such a passion that it has the tendancy to eat her alive every once in a while, as silly as that sounds. Trapped inside me is a person who desperately wants to cuddle, to kiss someone, twirl around together in a sunny field somewhere or in the snow, surprise with a picnic and a bottle of wine, hold hands with and go for long walks through the woods talking about everything and anything, write and play songs on the guitar for, feed soup and tea as you stroke her hair when she's sick, kiss her eyelids when she wakes up in the morning, to be able to say and do those little things that you know will make them glow. That part of me is in there and is chaffing at it's bonds, anxiously looking for an outlet but failing to find one. It thought is found one, which I suppose is a large part of the problem. For some strange reason I let myself believe I could just possibly fall in love. By which I'm not saying I was falling in love, I'm far too rational for that, but that I had faith that I could fall in love with her. That's only happened once before, and didn't work out for obvious reasons. The romantic inside me was partially out, indulging in the power and beauty of words and bathing in the suspense of something even greater to be realized. And that realization was partially made, albeit somewhat drunkenly, but not fully. Now I'm stuck between craving that full realization and love and leaving the butterflies I had the pleasure to indulge in for a month behind.
I realize the above indicates the sensation of infatuation was produced mostly for the sake of it, not for her, which isn't the case. There was an immense amount of respect and amazement produced in me by her. I recall the disticnt impression of feeling myself grow a little more every time we spoke, of falling a little more with every peice of information she shared with me, her image becoming increasingly more beautiful in my minds eye. However, a significant portion of this sentiment changed with the realization that there were a fair number of unsavory aspects that accompanied the good, although I think that discovery was mutual. Sitting in this apartment in NY and listening to the same music as I did over Thanksgiving almost bring back the butterflies until I realize that I see her in a differnt light, as a different person, then I did then. Again, a part of me still regrets what happened and resents myself for fucking up. But then again, a larger part realizes and is begging to internalize the fact that it wasn't all my fault. Granted, it was probably my hand that set the rapid unraveling in motion, but it was perpetuated by a series of misunderstanings and whatever illogic was going on on her side of the equation. I wasn't the sole irrational one in the sitation. More importantly, I'd like the think I've come to it's probably a good thing whatever was going on between us didn't progress further. I'd like to think that I learn from my mistakes and once I've made one it can be checked off the list and not repeated. However, I also get the distinct impression that no matter how many times I repent for my sins, refrain from some actions and embrace others, there will always be plenty more to be made, plenty more reason for her to ignore me for a couple days, give me the cold shoulder. Basically, as she put it herself, we'd drive each other crazy. I just wish certian things had a reset button, or even a fix it button. You'd be able to progress past the awkward or change things so it didn't exist. Even if when I am able to let go of the romantically affectionate attachment I have for a person I was involved with, there's still a bit of residue. I am unable to go from sweethearts to aquaitences. Maybe it's because I can't form any sort of relationship with someone I wasn't already intimate with on a friendship level, but whatever the case I still yearn for that friendship, that state of intamacy free of awkward and resentment, but I don't think she's found that yet, at least judging by the cold non- chalence she treats me with. Maybe I'm just naive and young, which definitly is a disinct possibility, but I'd like to think that's possible. I know my life doesn't fit into a lifetime move special and don't expect anything more to happen there, I just can't help but feel that after the words and messages exchanged over intersession, the looks and touches traded that Sunday night, the simple smiles and kisses previously, that I can't just be dropped from her life entirely, or left to become one of those people you engage in small talk when you encounter them at the gazebo or something. But I could be wrong.
I still have quite a bit more of this ranting business to so on a number of other subjects, but I think I'll save those segments for tomorrow because it's getting late and sleep would be good at some point...