“I hope you’re doing well. Miss you.”
While I am not fluent in the tongue of self-loathing, I know enough to recognize a cry for help when I see one. The dilemma is this: do all cries for help deserve a response? The idealistic, humanist inside me is frantically screaming, “OF COURSE!??” It is just that I tend to let my need to feel needed make me blind to manipulation.
But really, what is the cost of a reply? Nothing? God, even as I am writing this I am not sure if I have come full circle or just talked myself into a deeper confusion. How could he possibly be playing me? I am in a far more emotionally stable place than I was when we met. Physically, I am more than a world away.. and let’s face it. I have dated enough people since that emotionally, he feels very distant.
He has probably seen terrible things. Most likely, he has killed people. But I can’t forget that I had him on a pedestal. If even for a brief time, he helped me leaps and bounds in the intimacy department and I still feel… indebted.
I can’t understand. All I can offer is a kind word and the kind of support that shines through the backlight of an LCD screen. I’ll give him a few days so whatever this becomes isn’t emotionally exhausting.
I do wish I could hear his voice.
Like images reflected onto a screen, sometimes it is all too easy to finnagle our own issues into the dramas and misgivings of others.
As of late, I am all too guilty of this and it is my fear that that if it continues, it will hinder far more than roommate relations. It will hinder my spirit.
Bitterness is not a cloak I wear comfortably or well. Yet, whenever I remember how far I am from home and the comforts and securities that familiar faces provide, it is easy to wear said cloak under the pretense that it is some sort of safe guard.
Truth is, the joke is on Freckles. When you put up a wall, the only person that gets walled out is yourself. These past two weeks have been a magnificent testament to the Universe’s sick sense of humor. I am not in control. I never am, really. I guess the issue being skirted around is that Freckles is having a big ole’ “Life isn’t fair moment,” and you know what? That’s okay. I can stomp my feet and feel bitter as much as I want as long as it is dealt with healthfully. That is what I am doing by writing this incredibly vague entry that even I don’t want to understand. It’s too embarassing that I even care about shit like this. (end rant)
So, the game plan is this: I am going to fake it till I make it and go forward with a smile. The prettiest girls are the happiest girls. The point is to remember that happiness is always the superior choice.
.. who knew this city girl could start to love a sky without a skyline?
.. such an empty emotion, isn’t it? It inspires nothing, means less and basically only serves to remind that I am in fact a human being despite my every day attempts at being a robot. No point, Freckles. Let it go. For every person you are jealous of, there is someone who is jealous of you or thinks you have something they don’t.
The truth is, we all have something to offer. It simply takes time and maturity to recognize it.