~. the unsent letters and the unwelcome diary parts .~
i didn’t want to snap on her on the phone, exactly 3 minutes ago, when she already said her day was pretty bad. but, well, my day was not good either and i have no one to open up to – so here’s this blog. anyway. i am okay. i will be eventually once i type everything, all wrath & fury. the thing that i must realize, i guess, is that she is no longer someone that i can rely on when the going gets tough. it is okay not to rely on her anymore. look inside, you have someone there to rely on. but at the moment, it just hurt to see that people won’t understand and you can’t control yourself and you use anger as a mechanism for them to back off.
it made me remember about when i was having lunch with my friend, talking about what we always talk about, our exes, and she said: “you know, i have never seen you angry. it’s just… you know that not everyone is like that, right? maybe she couldn’t control herself”. and i guess it’s true. i think only my mom & dad have seen me angry; perhaps my therapist, but it was probably moderated, nothing over the top. real anger, just my mom & dad. that thing where i just completely lose it and scream. i don’t like myself when i am that person. i wouldn’t say i repress that version of me (maybe at some level), but i really do try to put other versions of me first – that’s like the last layer, the one where i have completely given up. which, now that i think about, makes sense how nobody else has seen it, especially her. i never did give up back then.
everything just connects. because i am having this abdominal pain and i immediately though: okay, so i have cancer, i am going to die, this is how i get to talk to her again. and last week i thought about my mom dying and how this was the only circumstance in which i would allow myself to text her again. and it’s pathetic how i keep creating these extreme rules of someone dying to give myself reassurance that, at some moment, wether it’s my death or my mother’s (or someone else’s, really), i will one day talk to her again. i look at people walking and think: oh, they’re pretty. and then i get sad because i am so not ready for anything, anyone. i keep pushing and perhaps i just need to get back to my shell and cry. i thought that phase was over.
i guess no phase is ever over when it’s about this. sometimes i want to ask people on the street: hey, how did you get over? what am i doing wrong? no, it’s just we wanted different things. yep. i was the asshole, definitely. actually, depends on the perspective. does it always need an asshole? can’t it be neither or both? oh okay. if you say so. okay. keep giving me tips on what to do. today i am just feeling very weak. i also had this brief epiphany where i said to myself: if you are so desperately looking for feeling love, it is certain that you will not find it anytime soon and that you are clinging only to the notion of love. love yourself and anything else will come whenever it’s ready. and then it hit me how i am doing just, like, an average job of loving myself lately.
i went to visit a friend this weekend and everything seemed so full of possibilities. she’s doing okay and i admire her a lot – she taught me a lot, too. her house is full of color and i am pretty sure she has the largest book collection of everyone i know. we haven’t seen each other in a year or so and she just went straight to the subject: what happened? i explained, as one tries, and she listened to most of it but i guess it’s been a while since it happened so although i talk about it constantly to myself and my therapist, and i also want to talk about it to other people, when it’s the latter, there is a moment where i just feel so exhausted and i don’t even know how to start or finish the tale. i said: reading women who run with the wolves is helping. i actually talked to a coworker today and she said she read the book, so i just got up and hugged her. that’s how emotional this book makes me. she was overwhelmed, i read brief parts of the book and she got very interested. i knew at that moment that i was going to give her a copy, which i did.
because when i started reading the book, i told myself: i will give this to all the women in my life – and then i said: to the ones that are interested in it. some friends are already reading it; some i showed a the introduction and they got interested, but perhaps not enough to make me sure they’d want to read it. but she got so excited i just knew. she hasn’t dated in a while so we talked about that. she said she’s not lonely. she is very satisfied with her future plans of adopting a kid alone, working from home maybe full time at some point, buying a house. i got so happy for her and i thought: this takes a lot of strength – and i don’t mean in the sense of “being single” but just knowing that you can do anything you want by yourself and that you won’t compromise who you are just for the sake of having someone with you.
she said: you know, having someone else, it makes everything easier – you share everything. i disagreed. i said: well, being alone is harder in the sense that you can split the “weight” of stuff, but there is no “weight” at all on deciding stuff, so i guess it’s just different things. let me put it this way: when you are alone, you can do anything you want and it’s all on you. when you are with someone, you have someone to share it with, but you can’t always do what you want. i don’t think one is better than the other. my problem at the moment is not being able to stop thinking about how much i was okay being alone, then how awesome it was to be together, and now both are sort of ruined – at least temporally.
it’s just tough.
listening while writing: Tennis – Cape Dory