Journal Entry: 6:03 AM / 02.09.2007
Current Mood: Disappointed
Category: Romance and Relationships
In the last six months of my romancing, I can honestly say that I’ve been burned pretty hard by a few girls that I mistakenly thought were a woman. That I saw potential in going so much further. Eh, whatever. Live and learn. Pity party over. What’s ironic is women can’t stand boys, and yet men like myself are suppose to put up w/ you girls and your bullshit? Yeh, back at ya ladies. I’d like a woman to step up, and the girls sit down.
If you’d like to be kicked off your fucking high horse I’m available for said kicking 24/7….
What adds injury to the insult of someone high-tailing themselves out of your life is the fact that they think ignorance and silence is bliss, or that there is some sort of justification for the brash immaturity of their actions. Rather then just being a mature civilized human being and giving another mature civilized being a bit of explanation and understanding on why the sudden shift in a relationship (friendship or otherwise)….(which is what friends do …ya know , share and get through it …)…they assume, presume, and make decisions for you, them, and you’re left in the dark.
To hell with your silence, assumptions, and ignorance. Step back from your own self-absorbed world for one fucking moment, and listen:
“What hurts the most
Was being so close
And having so much to say
And watching you walk away
And never knowing
What could have been
And not seeing that loving you
Is what I was tryin’ to do”
I’m not sure which part hurts and pisses me off the most. The not knowing where something that was so seemingly perfect one day goes and falls out from underneath you the next. Or, the idea that someone could be so comfortable with them self after giving an empty, hollow, and saving-face “I’m sorry” just so their consciousness can rest a little easier at night, and that they’re OK w/ just discarding everything into some misc. piss pot.
How do some people live with themselves? How do they get by with just shoving shit under the rug (so-to-speak)? It’s beyond me, and yet for all the hell it does me for being pissed off with another persons actions…me being who I am….I can’t help but wish them well because I cannot harbor within me the ability to hate. Sometimes, I almost wish I could…..
I dedicate the following song to ….eh, she should know who she is….You reap what you sow, and you let something damn good slip through your hands. No one is perfect. You’re no exception, and neither am I.
======================================================
RASCAL FLATTS LYRICS
What Hurts The Most
I can take the rain on the roof of this empty house
That don’t bother me
I can take a few tears now and then and just let them out
I’m not afraid to cry every once in a while
Even though going on with you gone still upsets me
There are days every now and again I pretend I’m ok
But that’s not what gets me
What hurts the most
Was being so close
And having so much to say
And watching you walk away
And never knowing
What could have been
And not seeing that loving you
Is what I was tryin’ to do
It’s hard to deal with the pain of losing you everywhere I go
But I’m doin’ It
It’s hard to force that smile when I see our old friends and I’m alone
Still Harder
Getting up, getting dressed, livin’ with this regret
But I know if I could do it over
I would trade give away all the words that I saved in my heart
That I left unspoken
What hurts the most
Is being so close
And having so much to say
And watching you walk away
And never knowing
What could have been
And not seeing that loving you
Is what I was trying to do
What hurts the most
Is being so close
And having so much to say
And watching you walk away
And never knowing
What could have been
And not seeing that loving you
Is what I was trying to do
Not seeing that loving you
That’s what I was trying to do
Ooohhh….
The deconstruction of a life to rebuild a new one is a tedious task, but I’m hell bent on starting it. I look around me: old furniture, old nick-knacks, old items that once held a memory, or perhaps captured a memory now laid to rest. Regardless of how it entered my life, I now find myself feeling claustrophobic with clutter from the past, and desire to be rid of it.
It is my hope that through letting go I will find some sort of satisfaction, or perhaps some sort of peace, that has long eluded me. That has escaped me because of these distracts that weight down my mind. If only all this was as easy as it sounds. It’s difficult to let go. It’s hard to say goodbye. It’s a trial to move on, and to stop looking back on what-ifs and could-of-beens.
I’m becoming a firm believer that sometimes you do need to bury the past, or it’s liable to haunt you and bury you instead. Let’s have a toast: to forging a new future, and laying to rest what no longer matters not. Brining the means to end so a new path can begin. *raises wine glass* Goodnight.
Eternally,
Romantic Torment
~~~{~~{~{@
I’ve learned a new word today. There are variants for the definition of this word, but the one I included below made me *LOL*
Seriously?! I mean, what the fuck society?!?!! We permit this to happen to others? The repercussions and devastation this can have upon someone is enormous and tragic. Honestly? It’s all bullshit, and infringes upon our rights of FREEDOM OF SPEECH! Score one more point for the up-and-coming “New World Order.” Enjoy your illusion of freedom tonight everyone. *Whispers* Wake up!!!
dooced
To have all social hell break loose when people you know and/or family members finally find and read your blog.
“I went throgh a lot of trouble to keep my blog anonymous. It’s just not worth getting dooced.”
Source: http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=dooced
During a phone conversation with an old high school friend (years ago now; heh), it dipped in and out of the general talk, and then a good deal of it focused in on personal relationships. Now, as I was attempting to decipher why her male companion was acting the way he was (she recently told him she loved him), I couldn’t help but compare it to my own situation. And that’s when it happened: an epiphany!
I started thinking bigger. I began to think broader (not just about her situation or mine). I started thinking why so many of us have defenses up – especially as we get older. It suddenly occurred to me that perhaps, as we get older, we’ve been conditioned from our past to not be so quick to jump into a relationship. We’ve been hurt. We’ve been scared. We’ve had our heart broken into pieces, left alone, and forced to pick up what pieces remain and glue them back together again. We make promises to ourself to never let it happen again.
Now, once we’ve created this nice defensive position and we’re all trenched in – why leave this blanket of protection and “comfort?” But then fate throws us a curve ball, and we meet someone. The next thing we know it’s six months (7 months, a year, etc) later and they utter the words: “I love you.”
ERRRRRRRRRR…. *tire scretching noise* WHAT?! Alarms go off. Sirens whistle. MAN THE WALLS!
Perhaps a bit dramatic, but you get the point. This opens up a new door, and a floor of questions rush in. “Do I say it back?” “How do I REALLY feel about THIS person?” “Can we really go alllllllll the way onto marriage?!” The questions are practically endless, and suddenly they find themselves in a quandary. Perhaps they want to reply, they want to answer your questions about the future, but they haven’t reached that next step. Up until now, that partner was just perfectly content on the road of happiness you were riding, and hadn’t reached that “pit stop.” The moment of clarity you had one morning, afternoon, or night that told you that you were in love hadn’t dawned on them yet. But, with three words you just laid it out – right in front of them – and now they can’t help but to dwell in on it.
When you utter these words to your partner, and they get skittish, leery, or a bit weird – think about it. Maybe they’re just reacting that way because years ago they put their heart out on the line (perhaps multiple times), and in the end got hurt. So, rather then being quick to jump into it, they practice caution. They ask for some space, or time to think things out. They ponder this and that, and perhaps whether or not they’re seeing the real you, or a future “togetherness” in the picture. After all, most of us act quite different in the first 4-6 months of a relationship, before we relax enough with a partner and start letting our real character traits “shine” through. When the real you begins to emerge. Now, for some this happens faster or slower than for others. For them, seeing the real you and finding themselves in you and with you, might take 6 months to a year, or even longer, before they can start lowering down those defenses and feel comfortable enough to derive to those three beautiful words you found: “I love you!”
And so, that was my epiphany. That, all this is taking place and happening consciously or subconsciously – to ourselves and with others. But, with a little time, patience, and faith; perhaps there exists a happy ending for both hearts at stake. One thing is for certain: young love is priceless as it is heartbreaking, but if we can overcome the pain, disappointment, and bitterness over the loss of what can never be, then perhaps just maybe – just maybe – we too can love and be loved again in what can be.
Goodnight.
Eternally,
Romantic Torment
~~~{~~{~{@
(Not edited. I’ll review this later and reword it if some parts are jumbled. Late and tired. Hope this makes sense and you enjoy!)
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