well, i'm going to see db in exactly three days and thirteen hours.
i'm excited about it, really. i think about it all the time, and it's making the hours and days drag by.
but right now i'm just in kind of a really bummed out mood. because of a lot of things. namely work...just constantly being made to feel like i suck and everybody is better than me. constantly worrying that i'll be replaced. i hate it. it's just...bumming me out. at least i don't have to work tomorrow night. i'm getting it out of the way in the morning. and then i'll be able to talk to db all day.
i feel bad...we got off skype tonight and i was in a bummed mood. and he starts to get really insecure when i do that. when i'm sad and he can't cheer me up, or if he makes reference to the relationship and i'm not super excited about it, he'll be afraid i'm having doubts or that i'm going to leave him. he doesn't believe that i'll never leave him.
things like that just take time i guess. i understand his insecurity. he's there and i'm here. what's keeping me around? i get that. i guess it's easier for me because there aren't many girls there; not much competition. and he works so much that he doesn't really have time to go out girl hunting. i try to remember how hard it must be for him and i try to be reassuring.
i guess tonight i just didn't have the energy. i hope he doesn't worry about it all night. i hope tomorrow he doesn't tell me he slept horribly because he was thinking about it. i hope he's tired enough that he'll just pass out from exhaustion and wake up tomorrow not even remembering how i was tonight.
sometimes i'm afraid that he won't be able to handle me. he knows who i am and he's seen most every side of me, but with what depth? to what extent can he handle who i really am? i feel that one day he will leave me.
so i'm trying to make the most of the days i have with him.
i don't want to talk about this anymore, it hurts my chest.
I'm getting a new phone tomorrow hopefully.
After work.
There's a verizon store right across the street from my work. Convenient.
i won't lie...it is hard being away from him.
scratch that.
really really really ultra mega hard.
like...one of the hardest things i've ever done.
because i just want to be around him all the time. i want to spend time with him. and not the kind of time we spend together on skype. because while that's nice, it's also a little draining because we always have to be talking and alert and stuff. i just want to lie with him and watch the stars and not talk, i want to take a nap with him, i want to go on a walk and not have to say anything.
i want our quiet time. it's impossible so far away. i want touch. i want to feel his hand in mine. im literally aching for physical contact. it's so hard.
sometimes i want to skip over portland entirely and just live with him. but then...what about me? what would i do? i need to go to school, i need to have a job, i need to have my own life. i can't just share his. neither of us would be happy that way.
this will all be easier after i move, i keep telling myself. once i move i'll see him a couple times a week. we can do things together and make memories and enjoy each other's company. i can wake up next to him, make breakfast for him, fight with him and then have make up sex. all the things we can't do now.
it's just so hard right now.
and i dont tell him that because then he'll assume i'm having doubts.
and i'm not. i have no doubts about being with him.
it's just this time, these three months, that have to be spent apart, are killing me.
he makes me so happy but...i just get really lonely i guess.
it's just like being single i guess. i mean, this is how it would be if we broke up, but worse. because its not like i'd be able to find anybody like him again; i don't want to be with anybody else. i just want to be with him. and i wish it were possible right now.
there's nothing he or anybody else can do about it though, so i just keep it to myself. what's the point in airing problems that can't be fixed?
Monday, May 31, 2010
Saturday, May 29, 2010
party tonight.
drunk encounters with exbf ensued.
boo.
he's still head over heels.
and i'm just...aloof. i don't care that he flirts with other girls. i don't care that he stares at me from across the room all night or that he is here and db isn't. db is still the only person i want to be with.
i wanted to write this entry. i wanted to write about it all but i'm so exhausted. 3 hours of sleep in the past two days, crazy shift at work today; and then that party was just draining....taxing emotionally with phil and leo being there. and jen, unhappy with her life and wanting to have heart to hearts in the bathroom. i don't know what to say when i'm drunk and i wish i did, but i really don't.
i want to read.
i have the day off tomorrow with db! we're going to talk all day. i'm really excited about it.
drunk encounters with exbf ensued.
boo.
he's still head over heels.
and i'm just...aloof. i don't care that he flirts with other girls. i don't care that he stares at me from across the room all night or that he is here and db isn't. db is still the only person i want to be with.
i wanted to write this entry. i wanted to write about it all but i'm so exhausted. 3 hours of sleep in the past two days, crazy shift at work today; and then that party was just draining....taxing emotionally with phil and leo being there. and jen, unhappy with her life and wanting to have heart to hearts in the bathroom. i don't know what to say when i'm drunk and i wish i did, but i really don't.
i want to read.
i have the day off tomorrow with db! we're going to talk all day. i'm really excited about it.
Friday, May 28, 2010
just a boy.
We talked almost every night, Joe and I.
We met through a mutual contact. A girl that hated me, adored him. We happened to meet. Said girl hated me more. I tend to have that problem. Girls hate me. I try to be friendly. Sometimes I feel like there was a code of conduct, an indoctrination, and I didn't receive a copy of this code, nor was I invited to the after parties. I never did wear the right shoes or curl my hair the right way. Maybe that's why I never fit in.
Joe was the intellectual equal I'd always wanted. He was sublimely intelligent, with a vast knowledge of the literary cannon, and a subtle, sarcastic sense of humor. He brought out the literatura in me. Every night we'd talk until the sun came up; about his life, about mine. But the two never coincided. There was never even a hint at a possible intertwining of our worlds. Perhaps this was why I was so very fond of him and his way.
He would set the phone down, on speaker, and play for me the most beautiful songs that he'd written; most often times, on the spot, calling me his muse. I could hear his cat purring as he played his songs. A few times I wrote lyrics for him and he put them to music in a way I could never quite grasp.
We had an intense power struggle. I never would allow a man the upper hand, and he seemed happy to oblige to submitting. In many ways his allusion to worshipping me were overlooked by myself; a fact not lost on me now.
I saw him as a man; sturdy, knowing his place in the world. He concealed his cracks so effortlessly that it took some time for me to dig up the roots of his strength. I finally began to see the sunken parts of his structure; the insecurities that he worked so hard to mask. I talked to him, believing it was possible to keep him at bay. Believing the intertwining of our worlds was as much of an impossibility for him as it was for me. His soul was beautiful and he stamped his mark into my poetic memory, but there was no place in the inner chambers of my heart.
I saw him as a man, but as time passed and his walls began to crumble, I saw him for the boy that he still was. And then it was too late; he'd fallen in love, and I hadn't been paying attention. I had assumed that the man I thought he was wouldn't be so ignorant as to fall in love with me.
"Never love a wild thing"
But he did. I broke our ties instantaneously.
Sometimes it's the only way.
He wrote one song for me before that flame in his heart died.
Sometimes when the night is very still and I know everybody has gone to bed, I'll play it. Just to remember; to feel the guilt of his unrequited love, as I feel I deserve to.
We met through a mutual contact. A girl that hated me, adored him. We happened to meet. Said girl hated me more. I tend to have that problem. Girls hate me. I try to be friendly. Sometimes I feel like there was a code of conduct, an indoctrination, and I didn't receive a copy of this code, nor was I invited to the after parties. I never did wear the right shoes or curl my hair the right way. Maybe that's why I never fit in.
Joe was the intellectual equal I'd always wanted. He was sublimely intelligent, with a vast knowledge of the literary cannon, and a subtle, sarcastic sense of humor. He brought out the literatura in me. Every night we'd talk until the sun came up; about his life, about mine. But the two never coincided. There was never even a hint at a possible intertwining of our worlds. Perhaps this was why I was so very fond of him and his way.
He would set the phone down, on speaker, and play for me the most beautiful songs that he'd written; most often times, on the spot, calling me his muse. I could hear his cat purring as he played his songs. A few times I wrote lyrics for him and he put them to music in a way I could never quite grasp.
We had an intense power struggle. I never would allow a man the upper hand, and he seemed happy to oblige to submitting. In many ways his allusion to worshipping me were overlooked by myself; a fact not lost on me now.
I saw him as a man; sturdy, knowing his place in the world. He concealed his cracks so effortlessly that it took some time for me to dig up the roots of his strength. I finally began to see the sunken parts of his structure; the insecurities that he worked so hard to mask. I talked to him, believing it was possible to keep him at bay. Believing the intertwining of our worlds was as much of an impossibility for him as it was for me. His soul was beautiful and he stamped his mark into my poetic memory, but there was no place in the inner chambers of my heart.
I saw him as a man, but as time passed and his walls began to crumble, I saw him for the boy that he still was. And then it was too late; he'd fallen in love, and I hadn't been paying attention. I had assumed that the man I thought he was wouldn't be so ignorant as to fall in love with me.
"Never love a wild thing"
But he did. I broke our ties instantaneously.
Sometimes it's the only way.
He wrote one song for me before that flame in his heart died.
Sometimes when the night is very still and I know everybody has gone to bed, I'll play it. Just to remember; to feel the guilt of his unrequited love, as I feel I deserve to.
Same day.
Second entry.
The second entry is always the pushing off of the dock that is the first, oddly sporadic entry.
My vision for this should be more focused, more natural, more.
But it's not really.
DB thinks I have it all together.
And then I have nights like tonight. Nights when the air is crystal thin, easy enough to drink, and I do and I end up not getting any sleep at all. Just lying with my head on an uncomfortable pillow thinking about dense branches covered in snow in some far off forest, or silver high heels I had that my dog chewed up when he was a puppy, and whose fault was it, mine or Sam's? I think about hair and how important it is to beauty and what if I cut all mine off, all the things it would change. My place in this world is strictly defined by my hair. ha. I feel that way sometimes.
sometimes i wonder if i'm broken. inside, you know? like the plastic dolls that are supposed to say cutesie things like mama, and feed me, and goo ga...and my cord is broken and the pull string just won't work and all my parts inside are all jumbled up and instead of saying cutesie things i just think too much and say all the wrong things and disassemble all the people around me.
people in my life change to suit me, it would seem. maybe they're tree huggers, or vegetarians, and then i really like meat. and i'm pretty firm on that; though i don't care if they do or not. and my absolute refusal to even attempt to change my beliefs to suit theirs warrants their molding to fit mine. not everyone i suppose. only the people that care.
who cares?
haha...i'm going crazy in my own head. absolutely.
this always happens late at night.
i work in two hours.
coffee always gets me through.
i think i get off early.
i could take a nap when i get home.
i only like couch naps.
i don't like my couch.
it's noisy.
it wouldn't be a good couch to have sex on.
i always find myself thinking that.
i've never had sex on a couch.
note to self:
have sex on a couch.
...not my couch.
i'm losin it
it's getting ugly
i haven't written anything worth while in months
i haven't painted anything worth while in months
i haven't played/sang anything worthwhile in years
my creativity is at a standstill
who am i?
i thought i knew
all this confusion
i cried tonight -- first time for the reason i was crying over
i didn't think it would induce tears
i didn't think it would be this hard.
but it is. and i did.
losing my head. losing my brain. trapped inside the walls of my own skull.
i wish i could just...turn it all off.
float on by like everyone else seems to do.
i hope i'm never the kind of person resistant to change;
trapped in my own attitude
Shannon is like that. Always negative and bitter. Always holier than though. Always unhappy.
It seems like all the people around me are constantly unhappy.
It makes the world seem hopeless.
Except for DB.
He gives me hope that maybe things can be good for me.
I'm afraid the world will prove me wrong.
I'm afraid this is just some sick lesson I'm being taught.
I couldn't handle that
I've been through a lot
seen a lot
cried over a lot
bit my lips until they've bled over a lot
kept silent about a lot
tried to forget a lot
burned photographs and laughed as the flames lapped up the ugly smiling faces
a lot
but i couldn't handle that
Second entry.
The second entry is always the pushing off of the dock that is the first, oddly sporadic entry.
My vision for this should be more focused, more natural, more.
But it's not really.
DB thinks I have it all together.
And then I have nights like tonight. Nights when the air is crystal thin, easy enough to drink, and I do and I end up not getting any sleep at all. Just lying with my head on an uncomfortable pillow thinking about dense branches covered in snow in some far off forest, or silver high heels I had that my dog chewed up when he was a puppy, and whose fault was it, mine or Sam's? I think about hair and how important it is to beauty and what if I cut all mine off, all the things it would change. My place in this world is strictly defined by my hair. ha. I feel that way sometimes.
sometimes i wonder if i'm broken. inside, you know? like the plastic dolls that are supposed to say cutesie things like mama, and feed me, and goo ga...and my cord is broken and the pull string just won't work and all my parts inside are all jumbled up and instead of saying cutesie things i just think too much and say all the wrong things and disassemble all the people around me.
people in my life change to suit me, it would seem. maybe they're tree huggers, or vegetarians, and then i really like meat. and i'm pretty firm on that; though i don't care if they do or not. and my absolute refusal to even attempt to change my beliefs to suit theirs warrants their molding to fit mine. not everyone i suppose. only the people that care.
who cares?
haha...i'm going crazy in my own head. absolutely.
this always happens late at night.
i work in two hours.
coffee always gets me through.
i think i get off early.
i could take a nap when i get home.
i only like couch naps.
i don't like my couch.
it's noisy.
it wouldn't be a good couch to have sex on.
i always find myself thinking that.
i've never had sex on a couch.
note to self:
have sex on a couch.
...not my couch.
i'm losin it
it's getting ugly
i haven't written anything worth while in months
i haven't painted anything worth while in months
i haven't played/sang anything worthwhile in years
my creativity is at a standstill
who am i?
i thought i knew
all this confusion
i cried tonight -- first time for the reason i was crying over
i didn't think it would induce tears
i didn't think it would be this hard.
but it is. and i did.
losing my head. losing my brain. trapped inside the walls of my own skull.
i wish i could just...turn it all off.
float on by like everyone else seems to do.
i hope i'm never the kind of person resistant to change;
trapped in my own attitude
Shannon is like that. Always negative and bitter. Always holier than though. Always unhappy.
It seems like all the people around me are constantly unhappy.
It makes the world seem hopeless.
Except for DB.
He gives me hope that maybe things can be good for me.
I'm afraid the world will prove me wrong.
I'm afraid this is just some sick lesson I'm being taught.
I couldn't handle that
I've been through a lot
seen a lot
cried over a lot
bit my lips until they've bled over a lot
kept silent about a lot
tried to forget a lot
burned photographs and laughed as the flames lapped up the ugly smiling faces
a lot
but i couldn't handle that
Online musings?
I've always hated the first blog post. It always comes off as clunky and roughly expositional.
Oh well, what can you do?
Let's see...school is out, work, unfortunately, isn't. Nor will it ever be! Not that I would want it to be. I think about that sometimes. Not working at all. What the hell would I do? Re-upholster my own furniture? I'm no Martha Stewart. I have to be working. Or going to school. Or something. I'd slowly drive myself insane sitting idly by as everybody else lives their lives.
That was a tangent!
Right now I'm writing to nobody. It's suuuuper weird. Hello computer, let me tell you about my day. La dee da.
I'm on a total Marilyn Monroe, Greta Garbo, fifties glamour kick.
I'm diggin' it. I haven't worn red lipstick in a good...three years. Once my sister started doing it too I kinda lost interest.
I have to work at 6:30...and it's 2 am right now. I can't fall asleep, I'm sorta bouncing off the walls. What is it when orgasming and then wanting to like...do everything. Ever. Like, I want to clean my room and do the dishes and go for a run and write a book and all this inane shit that I shouldn't want to be doing at 2 in the morning. Lame. Note to self, keep sexy time to the mornings only. It apparently perks me right up.
Austin would think I was a total nutjob if he knew I was still up just like, doing pointless stuff, talking to a computer about sexy time. He already thinks I'm a total nut, whateva. I'm fine with it. He is too. We're peas in a pod, he and I.
Party tomorrow. Pretty excited. Going to get drunk. Ex-boyfriend, and ex-bestfriend are going to be there. Weird? Not if I'm drunk. I'm getting drunk so that I can successfully avoid them both. Probably not the best reason to be drinking. I don't want dear boyfriend to worry. Bah. I'm just going to get super in the mood for sexy time if I get drunk and end up calling him, being vulgar, anyway. Lame. I'm lame.
What is it with the whole 'oh you're so pretty' kick that everybody has been on lately? I don't get that. I've never gotten that. I've never felt pretty. I've never really been told I was pretty that often so I kinda just didn't even really think about it. Like...Jen is beautiful, Marilyn Monroe was beautiful, flowers are beautiful. I'm...an assortment of features; a nose, some eyes, a couple ears, some hair (that's trying to be red all of the sudden?)...I see myself every day. Maybe I'm just to used to myself? I guess it's cool if people think I'm pretty and stuff but I don't really know how to handle compliments. I've never known how to handle them.
At my sister's wedding my family kept telling me I looked beautiful and I just kept saying things like, "Yeah...look at Sara! She's gorgeous today, don't you love her hair? Look at her dress." redirecting the compliments to her. She handles compliments amazingly well!
I don't get people that fish for compliments. "I'm so ugly......." just waiting for you to jump in and correct them with a "what?! no you're like the prettiest person i know!!!!!!! OMFG!!!!" Whenever people do that I just say things like "Well that's a terrible way to see it." or "Have a little self respect."
Is there no shame? Where did pride go? For me, pride is keeping things to yourself sometimes. Not telling everyone, every little thought that pops into your head. There are two people that I'm completely open with about everything. And everybody else I pick and choose what to tell them. Because most of my thoughts, feelings and motivations are none of anybody elses business but my own. And the select few that I've chosen to share my life with. For somebody to tell everybody all of their thoughts is to completely obliterate their sense of self worth. What are you worth if you find no worth in yourself? Nothing. You're worthless.
I think I was a nazi in a past life. Or a dictator. Or some heartless person. Sometimes icewater runs through my veins and I feel no sympathy. I'm like a rock. Nothing can get to me if I don't want it to. Sometimes it's hard to soften up. I've never admitted that to myself before.
this post has gone in so many directions that I'm beginning to question my own sanity at this point. dear boyfriend is surely going to think i'm off my rocker.
Oh well, what can you do?
Let's see...school is out, work, unfortunately, isn't. Nor will it ever be! Not that I would want it to be. I think about that sometimes. Not working at all. What the hell would I do? Re-upholster my own furniture? I'm no Martha Stewart. I have to be working. Or going to school. Or something. I'd slowly drive myself insane sitting idly by as everybody else lives their lives.
That was a tangent!
Right now I'm writing to nobody. It's suuuuper weird. Hello computer, let me tell you about my day. La dee da.
I'm on a total Marilyn Monroe, Greta Garbo, fifties glamour kick.
I'm diggin' it. I haven't worn red lipstick in a good...three years. Once my sister started doing it too I kinda lost interest.
I have to work at 6:30...and it's 2 am right now. I can't fall asleep, I'm sorta bouncing off the walls. What is it when orgasming and then wanting to like...do everything. Ever. Like, I want to clean my room and do the dishes and go for a run and write a book and all this inane shit that I shouldn't want to be doing at 2 in the morning. Lame. Note to self, keep sexy time to the mornings only. It apparently perks me right up.
Austin would think I was a total nutjob if he knew I was still up just like, doing pointless stuff, talking to a computer about sexy time. He already thinks I'm a total nut, whateva. I'm fine with it. He is too. We're peas in a pod, he and I.
Party tomorrow. Pretty excited. Going to get drunk. Ex-boyfriend, and ex-bestfriend are going to be there. Weird? Not if I'm drunk. I'm getting drunk so that I can successfully avoid them both. Probably not the best reason to be drinking. I don't want dear boyfriend to worry. Bah. I'm just going to get super in the mood for sexy time if I get drunk and end up calling him, being vulgar, anyway. Lame. I'm lame.
What is it with the whole 'oh you're so pretty' kick that everybody has been on lately? I don't get that. I've never gotten that. I've never felt pretty. I've never really been told I was pretty that often so I kinda just didn't even really think about it. Like...Jen is beautiful, Marilyn Monroe was beautiful, flowers are beautiful. I'm...an assortment of features; a nose, some eyes, a couple ears, some hair (that's trying to be red all of the sudden?)...I see myself every day. Maybe I'm just to used to myself? I guess it's cool if people think I'm pretty and stuff but I don't really know how to handle compliments. I've never known how to handle them.
At my sister's wedding my family kept telling me I looked beautiful and I just kept saying things like, "Yeah...look at Sara! She's gorgeous today, don't you love her hair? Look at her dress." redirecting the compliments to her. She handles compliments amazingly well!
I don't get people that fish for compliments. "I'm so ugly......." just waiting for you to jump in and correct them with a "what?! no you're like the prettiest person i know!!!!!!! OMFG!!!!" Whenever people do that I just say things like "Well that's a terrible way to see it." or "Have a little self respect."
Is there no shame? Where did pride go? For me, pride is keeping things to yourself sometimes. Not telling everyone, every little thought that pops into your head. There are two people that I'm completely open with about everything. And everybody else I pick and choose what to tell them. Because most of my thoughts, feelings and motivations are none of anybody elses business but my own. And the select few that I've chosen to share my life with. For somebody to tell everybody all of their thoughts is to completely obliterate their sense of self worth. What are you worth if you find no worth in yourself? Nothing. You're worthless.
I think I was a nazi in a past life. Or a dictator. Or some heartless person. Sometimes icewater runs through my veins and I feel no sympathy. I'm like a rock. Nothing can get to me if I don't want it to. Sometimes it's hard to soften up. I've never admitted that to myself before.
this post has gone in so many directions that I'm beginning to question my own sanity at this point. dear boyfriend is surely going to think i'm off my rocker.
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