I have said my goodbyes to the one person that could make me feel anything, because he lead me down that narrow path of excitement, and then of resentment and intolerable emotional agony.  I could connect with him only, because I knew that he was just as screwed up as me.  I found in him a mirror.  A screwed up companion.  Until he showed me how little he cared.  Because I’d rather feel nothing at all instead of that pain.

So, I smile for the camera.  I go through the motions and stay the dutiful daughter, granddaughter, student, friend–and all the while, I feel nothing.  Nothing positive, anyway.

I hear a good love song, and I realize that will never happen to me–and now, all I feel is indifference because my brain won’t allow me to fully process the information.  These things are blocked out of my mind.

In other words, I have become Dexter, without any kind of purpose.  At least he’s a crime scene investigator.

The worst part of it is, there was a flutter of hope.  It was shallow and inconstant, but gods, it was beautiful for the few minutes a day that I spent wrapped up in it.  That hope died today in the hands of a text message, sent halfheartedly and without purpose, without care.

I would say that I’ve surprised myself with how good I’ve become at fooling others, but it’s become second habit that I hardly think about it.

I don’t know.  Maybe it’s just easier this way.

But instead I expected a rise when I told him that my sister is trying to set me up with someone.  His response:  “You’re not making any commitments.  New friends are good.”

Yeah.

What did I want?

I wanted him to be offended.  I wanted the rending of garments and threats abound.  I wanted him to act like it would be the end of the world…

Part of me knew better.  Part of me didn’t.

I don’t know why I started doing this.  I know that it’s only going to end badly for me.  He’s going to get better and I’ll once again get left behind.  He’ll find a girl who’s not me and I’ll suffer in silence until I can slip away quietly and be forgotten.

“Always a bridesmaid, never a bride.”  That’s how I feel about myself right now.  The only one I really want is the one I REALLY don’t have a shot with.  Why?  Why can’t I let him go?  This doesn’t make sense.

There are times when being crazy is really a bother…

But I couldn’t give up on him.

I have a hope, but no real expectations.

I just want to help.

I am immensely terrified to let him back in, even a little, but it’s clear to me every day that he never really left.  I’m just trying not to put myself in a vulnerable position.  But last night, as I held his hand and listened to him as he told me all of the things that he’s been going through…

I’m in trouble.  I know I shouldn’t have done this to myself, but he was the one who begged to see me, and after everything that has happened, everything that has passed between us, and to be reminded of this stupidly strong bond between us, to be reminded that we’re so alike…I have this undeniable feeling that the gods pushed us together, and for better or worse, we’re stuck with each other one way or another.

Gods, I’m so anxious about this…

I do remember wanting to read 25 books this year OUTSIDE of school, but I think I’ve read only 4 or 5.  However, I have been reading magazines, and honestly, some of them feel more relevant than the books.  And now, studying for finals and realizing that I don’t really give a damn anymore, I’m ready for the summer.  I’m hoping for some luck so that I can launch myself into this writing career that I want to begin.

I have a lot of books I need to read, a magazine or two I want to subscribe to.  Also, I need to invest in a couple of things, such as writer’s market guides and eventually a website.  I’d like to have my own domain, to start listing my writing projects–if I can get my boss in on my plan.  She will be my first client, and I’m trying to get her to get me started.  Hopefully, my courage won’t fail me to talk to her about it tomorrow.  I’m more excited about my future writing than I ever have been.  I plan also to start doing some free freelance work, and to start a portfolio, and maybe see about eventually starting a consulting or ghost writing company while doing my own writing on the side.

Maybe by the time I’m thirty, I’ll have paid of my student loans and have a house that actually belongs to me.  I’m trying to focus hard on this because there are so many other aspects of my life right now that are kind of crumbling.  Not devastatingly, just…making way for other things.  Or at least, I hope.  I’m having issues in my current relationship.  Only six months in, and I’m not quite sure how to be happy.  I’ve always had a problem figuring things out in relationships, especially since this is my longest, save one, and the others were so painful.

Problem is, I love him, but I’m extremely bored and way too comfortable.  I feel like this is the end of the road, that my feelings won’t go any further.  Maybe, maybe they’re not supposed to.  But it seems a little sad, like in six months, we’ve gone through everything.  We’re putting off living together for a while, but I don’t know where I am going in two or three months, because originally we had planned on living together.  But I need some space sometimes, and he’s really bad about giving me said space.  I have no idea where to go, because this moving in together was going to save me money, so I didn’t plan for it…and I really don’t want to have to move, but I all ready relinquished the apartment, and I couldn’t afford it.

Anyway, I really need a Renaissance of my own, and not really sure where it’s going to take place, but I NEED it this summer.

But first, I NEED a writing desk.

The thoughts inside my head are even worse.  I’m stuck in a past that I can’t have, with a person I’m desperately trying not to want.  When I see him around, my brain turns into electricity, my heart sinks, and I want to cry and run out to him.  It’s wrong.  It’s so fucking wrong that I want to cry.  What would my tears be for?

Jobs and school and life and apartments and impending engagements and realizing that I’m 23, that I haven’t gone anywhere, done anything meaningful…kill me.  I’m literally about five minutes away from packing up some books and clothes and driving down to NC with my sister, just to say “fuck it”.  I’m so tired of my life and my regrets and my issues and my going nowhere and fast.  At least on a beach there would be water.

I want to be so disconnected…far away…so freaking far away…I feel like bursting out and crying every second…and I really hope it’s just my depressive tendencies.  Please, gods, let it be my manic side, because that will fade.  I can’t live with these feelings forever…

Knee pain.

Memory loss.

Not being able to concentrate or learn things or comprehend things as quickly as I once could.

Fear of the future and constant panic attacks.

Absolute exhaustion–all of the time.

I’m scared of what this year will bring, no longer hopeful of the glittering promises of the past month and a half; I feel as though I’ve been disillusioned, as though my mental powers are starting to finally fail (though I’ve been fighting, and continue to tooth and nail).  I have no hope for my future, only this fear.

Today, I had a test in English, with a professor I liked, in a subject I enjoy.  I’ve always done exceptionally well on essay exams…and today, I saw the question, and I…crashed.  My brain couldn’t fathom the idea.  I struggled to regain the information that I had just LAST NIGHT poured myself into, and then pieced together an inadequate portrait of the things I remembered.  There was roughly 56% of a completed portrait on those pages, and I felt like they were just gibberish. I wanted to put my head down and cry.

AND THEN, Joel, my ex, tried to add me on facebook.  I immediately declined, but part of me felt that guilty flutter.  I don’t love him anymore.  I don’t hold that emotion for him, not after what happened.  But there’s still this spark of something there…maybe I still care a little about him (not romantically), maybe I just want him to know that, maybe I think that talking to him would fix my life.  Maybe I want to know the truth behind his cruelty, or maybe I just want to badger him and tell him that I finally found someone worth loving who KNOWS THAT I’M WORTH LOVING TOO.

That’s what Zack said–”He knows how awesome you are and that it’s too late.”  I think he’s just trying to mess with me.  And though I know that opening myself back up to Joel again would also open me up to all kinds of drama, pain, and stupidity, part of me wanted to say yes to his request and hear him out.  I hate myself for being that weak, for WANTING to associate with someone who had hurt me.  I would never date him again, I can’t love him ever again (not after knowing the wonder of being in love with a best friend), and I have absolutely no intentions of leaving my wonderful lover for someone as inept as him, or anyone for that matter.  I love Trevor more than anyone.  Things aren’t and won’t be perfect, but they are amazing.  I know that I can get through whatever I need to with him here, and he has made my quality of life better.

So, why did I want to respond to him?  This doesn’t make sense.  I would disapprove of any friend or relative of mine for doing it, and there is no logical or emotional benefit for my interaction with him.  So why do I want to know why he wanted to add me?

I just really hate my brain right now.  I need to start meditating again and listening to my heart.  I had gotten to the point of knowing the answers, and lately, my head has been filled with so much of everything that I can’t do it.

BLEH.

Anyhow, I’ve ranted for now…I have other concerns, but until I can make sense of things, there’s no need…I have to get back to doing homework, to doing and attempting to concentrate on the things that matter.

The tragedy in Haiti (yes, it has been talked about a lot, but please hear me out) has done a number of things;

#1  Tt has shown both the indifference of those who have shrugged and done nothing, and also the overwhelming capacity that quite a few have.

#2  This has shown us, once more, that things–homes, families, lives, dreams–can be over in an instant,

#3  and that we can’t take for granted the fact that we are blessed (by whatever deity you choose) with daily chances to wake up, reconstruct our lives, and try to end the day by admiring that.  Maybe that’s how we need to look at it–each day, reconstruct something.  Even if it’s so tiny you don’t think others will notice:  Reconstruct your diet, reconstruct your knowledge (by reading or learning), reconstruct the way you treat someone, or, my personal favorite, reconstruct the way you treat yourself.  Love cannot happen for others until you have a semblance of self-love.  If you need to “out-with-the-old-and-in-with-the-new” it, then that’s wonderful–but don’t lose yourself.

We have so much to live for, even when things get hard.  It’s simply a matter of seeing that and being grateful for it.  I think that’s why people try to uphold New Year’s resolutions.  We adopt these rules into our lives and TRY to adhere to them to prove to ourselves that we can achieve our dreams and do anything we want to, to remind ourselves that there is meaning in our lives, even if that means falling a bit short and having to try again.

I usually make New Year’s resolutions and don’t keep them because my life becomes too bogged down and busy, which is why I ORIGINALLY decided not to make any.  But then it occurred to me that I had in fact achieved last year’s resolution:  Be Happy.  My life has become so much better because I have taken advantage of these every day reconstructions.  Not every day, but as much as I can.  So, I decided that maybe a short list couldn’t hurt.

#1  Be Happy.  That’s at the top of my list, and will be every year.  However, resolutions don’t all have to be grand gestures to make yourself feel good.  Little things are just as wonderful.

For instance, #2 on my list is to “Read 20 NEW books this year OUTSIDE of school.”  I love to read, and am starting to get time back.

#3, which is super appropriate because Imbol(g)(c) approaches, is to renew my faith and try harder to become part of it–not only on holidays, but as often as possible.  I was happiest when I truly believed with my heart in something, and it’s time to stop making excuses and to do the work!

#4 is to become a better cook, which I have all ready made sweeping advances on (last night I made cookies that weren’t terrible!  Can I consider that one achieved?  ),

#5 is to finish a writing project, and #6 is to fulfill my curiosity; start investigating these burning questions that I have on  a daily basis.

The biggest, #7, is to be a better daughter, sister, employee, student, friend, girlfriend, and writer than I was last year.

And then #8 stems from #7:  to be more courageous.  Take chances to better myself and my life.

These are all things that are important to me, things that seem small and big at the same time.  I am fortunate–I have been granted the time to do all of this, my life allows me to do all of the things listed above, and I can’t wait to achieve them.  When the time for my ending journey comes, be it tomorrow or 200 years from now (I plan to live for a long time, you see), I don’t want to die knowing I achieved my list; I want to die knowing that I tried and that life for me was fulfilling.

Because, when it comes down to it, isn’t that the best thing of all?

I didn’t make any New Year’s resolutions this year besides the things that were going to happen anyway–mainly because I never stick to “resolutions”.  Things come up, and then things don’t get done.  This is a problem for me because I feel like I’m breaking a promise to myself.

So, this year, I plan to graduate, move out of Huntington, and start exploring career options, while I get better at cooking and writing.  It will probably be next year at least before I even find or settle on anything (in terms of a career), but in the meantime, I plan to live, love, learn, and do copious amounts of writing.  Oh, yeah, and I want to get a Kindle too.  Really badly.

See, I hate this right here.  I feel like every time I write in here, it’s stiff.  Like, trying to use your arm after you’ve slept on oddly.  Everything’s just forced, and I also get paranoid that I’m going to make a break-through in here, and the words that I come up will be taken from me.  That’s why I don’t really post anything anymore.  I’m terrified of people stealing my thoughts (even though thoughts nowadays are pretty duplicated among the masses).  Writing just doesn’t come naturally right now, and I can’t help but wonder if it’s because I’ve become so damn cynical.  I somehow skipped from naive optimism and went straight to pessimistic cynicism.  Skipped right over realism.

Bleh.  That’s how it is.  Bleh.

So what’s the problem?  Lack of money, having to borrow from my parents, wishing I could get more hours, feeling bad because I can’t even buy Christmas presents.  Fear for my safety, hating feeling scared every time I hear people walk past my apartment, being too scared to go anywhere after dark.  Wondering what comes after graduation: will I be able to make it in the real world, or will I live paycheck to paycheck for the rest of my life?  What if this one guy who makes me happy will turn out to be yet another “dud” (though, to be fair, this is the least of my worries, though still significant)?

But I think the thing that hits me the most this time of year is the fact that I don’t feel close to my family or friends.  I think about those circumstances more around this time of the year than any other time.  My sister and I aren’t close because she doesn’t want to make the effort, and then blames me; my brother and father are frequently too busy; my mother and I are not close, probably won’t ever be; my friends seem to find time to hang out with each other, but don’t seem to think that I’m worth it.  And I can’t help but wonder–

“What am I doing wrong?”

I’d like to be confident and assert that it’s not my doing…but my entire life I’ve been surrounded by people who kind of take advantage of me.  I try to surround myself with decent people, but they seem to want little, if anything, to do with me.  Sometimes I think that I’m just overreacting, that it’s all in my head…but when my two “best friends” don’t contact me for weeks at a time, but find the time to hang with SO’s, and other friends, or when other friends say, “Hey let’s hang out” and then they don’t respond to emails, phone calls or texts…it really makes me wonder.  I don’t want to feel this way, don’t get me wrong.  But I seem to not be able to find out the real cause of all of this and what there is to be done about it.