These things I'll never say (aloud)
Apr. 19th, 2004 12:26 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
azuriteIf I have the person right, and Jenny is who I think she is, then right now, I hate her. I'm seeing this scenario where I just walk into that spillover gaming room at FX Thursday, with the coldest face I can imagine and say flat out to her/Joe, (especially her, if she tried to glomp me; I'd say "Don't touch me.") "I'm here for my books." And just leave, like that.
It's not so easy to turn your back on that kind of thing though. Much as I wish I had the courage or the face to do it, what would happen to me afterwards? The only ending I can come up with is something utterly impossible and depressing. And sick.
So Joe's finally talking --or IMing at least-- me, but it's not like he's saying much. I want so badly to just come out and tell him everything, but it occurred to me earlier that I'm painting myself as the victim here, when I'm the enemy! I'm the bad guy, the evil ex-girlfriend! I'm BAD, so shouldn't you hate ME instead?
I hate her because she reminds me of what I used to be like, before Joe and I broke up the first time around. And I couldn't even get the dates or the times right-- I thought it was less than a year, but it's been more than that, and... god, I really, really screwed up. Really.
I think that maybe if I hadn't been so damn mean about the break up, that maybe I could have seen that I needed to look at the big picture, I needed to trust. Then I wouldn't have "hooked up with Mike" or gotten into all those messes that I did. People I shouldn't have messed around with, and I did, and I just keep thinking now, "God, if I could go back and undo that, I know what I would say, I know what I would do." The feelings would be the same, but if I went back knowing how screwed up my life would be, all this time later? I never would have been such a selfish bitch.
I'm a lot more fluent than most people on LJ when they're feeling this depressed. I don't write poems, I don't come right out and say "I want to kill myself right about now, where's my razor?" (whoops) ... well, I didn't, and I WON'T, because it's not my personality. I adhere to a bizarre, but strict set of rules, and I have to stop letting my emotions get the better of me.
I don't want to go to bed cold, tired, hungry, and lonely again, but I already know I will.
There is no time machine, there is no Undo option. I did the deeds, so now I have to face the consequences. I'm not as ready for the real world as I thought, apparently.
If anything, I should be happy. Glad that Joe beat me at my own game, and that he's found someone new, while I've sort of torn this gaping hole in myself that I can't stitch back together. It's like the scar on my leg-- I don't remember the pain much --it's a faint sensation-- but I remember the gore, the falling down, the things that MADE the cut painful. And I have my ugly reminder. My precious mind supplies it for me every time I look at my leg. It'll never go away. These things never do.
It's not so easy to turn your back on that kind of thing though. Much as I wish I had the courage or the face to do it, what would happen to me afterwards? The only ending I can come up with is something utterly impossible and depressing. And sick.
So Joe's finally talking --or IMing at least-- me, but it's not like he's saying much. I want so badly to just come out and tell him everything, but it occurred to me earlier that I'm painting myself as the victim here, when I'm the enemy! I'm the bad guy, the evil ex-girlfriend! I'm BAD, so shouldn't you hate ME instead?
I hate her because she reminds me of what I used to be like, before Joe and I broke up the first time around. And I couldn't even get the dates or the times right-- I thought it was less than a year, but it's been more than that, and... god, I really, really screwed up. Really.
I think that maybe if I hadn't been so damn mean about the break up, that maybe I could have seen that I needed to look at the big picture, I needed to trust. Then I wouldn't have "hooked up with Mike" or gotten into all those messes that I did. People I shouldn't have messed around with, and I did, and I just keep thinking now, "God, if I could go back and undo that, I know what I would say, I know what I would do." The feelings would be the same, but if I went back knowing how screwed up my life would be, all this time later? I never would have been such a selfish bitch.
I'm a lot more fluent than most people on LJ when they're feeling this depressed. I don't write poems, I don't come right out and say "I want to kill myself right about now, where's my razor?" (whoops) ... well, I didn't, and I WON'T, because it's not my personality. I adhere to a bizarre, but strict set of rules, and I have to stop letting my emotions get the better of me.
I don't want to go to bed cold, tired, hungry, and lonely again, but I already know I will.
There is no time machine, there is no Undo option. I did the deeds, so now I have to face the consequences. I'm not as ready for the real world as I thought, apparently.
If anything, I should be happy. Glad that Joe beat me at my own game, and that he's found someone new, while I've sort of torn this gaping hole in myself that I can't stitch back together. It's like the scar on my leg-- I don't remember the pain much --it's a faint sensation-- but I remember the gore, the falling down, the things that MADE the cut painful. And I have my ugly reminder. My precious mind supplies it for me every time I look at my leg. It'll never go away. These things never do.
cheer up mer!
Date: 2004-04-19 06:05 pm (UTC)Re: cheer up mer!
Date: 2004-04-20 01:04 am (UTC)Yeah, I suppose you're right in one of those twisted ways.
Mm, Santa Monica was kind of fun when I was there. If I go early (mid-July), then maybe we can all go to Magic Mountain and hit the beaches, too!
Of course, you guys would be back in SF by then... >_> Maybe I should learn to drive sooner.
:) Thanks.