Monday, October 24, 2005


I'm sitting here listening to a little Nikka Costa and thinking. Which is never, EVER good. Homecoming is officially over and it was ok but with the end of homecoming comes something more significant... the end of distraction as I know it. I don't have any more events, no more nights of hanging at the bar, no more nights out until 5am to distract me from the things that I have been desperately trying not to think about.

So I am sitting, and thinking, turning thoughts and feelings over in my mind, feeling like I want to cry at certain intervals and never giving into the feeling.

You remember what it was like that very last day of elementary school before high school when you hung out with your friends, cried and laughed and reminisced, knowing that this could very well be the last time you see them? You know that desire to sit and steal it all memory, commit all the sights and sounds and words to a very special folder in your mind so that you may open it when you need it's familiarity? How you realize that there is no going back, that you must go forward, but you're fighting the desire to hold on until your hands bleed?

I want to hold on.... I'm holding on. But my hands are starting to bleed.

I was sitting here and I realize that it's time. It's time to let go, give my hands a rest. It's time to erase the number from my phone, time to breathe through the anger no matter how bitter I am still about it. It's time to put away the memories of the laughs, the late nights of talking, the sweet phone calls and messages. It's time to start forgetting the feeling of the touch of his hand and the smell of his body. I have to stop reading and re-reading the letters until the creases in the paper grow brittle and tear. I have to stop tearing up at the sight of places we once went, the butterflies of streets we once walked. I have to stop remembering the conversations, the sound of his laughter, the comfortable ease with which we existed. It's time to let go of the special ring on my phone, the plans, the ideas, the hopes for us that filled my head and tailored my plans. It's time to stop reliving the last year in my head, smiling at the good times, crying at the things that hurt me still, time to stop caring about his life and start taking better care of myself, time to find someone who takes just as good care of me as well. It's time to stop beating myself up and dissecting and sifting through what I fucked up or did wrong. It's time to stop.

It's time to let go.

It's funny how healing hurts almost as much as the initial injury does.

It's time. I know that. And it hurts quite a bit. I cover myself in the knowledge that I've been here before, done this before, that I didn't think I'd get through then either and that I did despite everything and came out better than ever. I remind myself that I am strong, even when injured, that I exist, thrive even, through pain that many only read about in their newspapers in the morning or watch on TV at night. I relive the moments where I was ok standing alone, where I made it through, when I looked back on pain and realized that I was on the other side. Those are the things that I must remember, hold dear to me, rather than wallow in what should have been. I am almost through the tunnel and I think that maybe I can just now see the light on the other side.

In my quest to hold onto things out of fear of being left, I think that maybe I started to hold on to my detriment. I remember that feeling in middle school, that unfathomable, bittersweet loss. That fear of starting over, if being alone, of letting go of the relationships you've worked so hard to build. And no matter how I disagree, no matter how much I believe that it's not for the best, if someone is looking for a way out, if someone is trying to leave and just can't say it, you must let go. If you know, already, that they've checked out, that they're just waiting, biding their time until they can make a graceful exit of sorts, make it easy on them and on you and just let go. There is no holding onto someone who doesn't want to be held, who wants to walk away.

I've held on so long my hands are bleeding. I've fought so hard that my arms, my chest, my knuckles are bruised from the fight. I wish I would have figured out a long time ago that if I just let go that I wouldn't have to suffer, wouldn't have to be in pain. It's time to let go so maybe my hands can start to heal.

Monday, October 17, 2005

All That Remains

Cleaning up the house today
I found our picture
And it made me cry
Because I remember what it was like
To hold you to my side
But this is picture is all that's left
it's all that's left

All I've got is remnants of times that change
How good it sounded
to call your name
All I've got is faded scars from past pain
And that's all that remains

All I've got
is wishing it could be the same
And exhaustion of this back and forth game
All I've got is no one to blame
And that's all that remains

I sleep on a bed
of words I never got to say
Bound by halls, erected walls of pictures and trinkets
I can't bear to put away

In the dark I reach out for you
Before I realize that we
has become you and me
And I realize there're nothing more I can do
Can't stand to face you

Last night I slept in the shirt you left
Could still smell your scent as I inhaled every breath
And I thought of all the things
I wish you knew
But wishing is all I can do
it's all I can do

Falling Down

Listening to "Get Gone"
Cuz I do know what's good for me
And I've done what I could for you
But I'm not benefitting
And yet I'm sitting
Singing again, singing again
How can I deal with this
If he won't get with this
Am I gonna heal from this
He won't admit to it
Nothing to figure out
I gotta get him out
It's time the truth was out that he don't give a shit about
Fiona Apple

Anyone remember that movie Falling Down? Michael Douglass was in it... basically it's about this ordinary guy who has the horrible day from hell. He gets robbed, his daughter is taken away from him, he gets fired, just all this shit happens to him and he just loses it. He completely snaps. Not in a crazy, I'm-gonna-go-on-a-killing-spree-kinda-way, but in an ordinary painful, understandable, sometimes-shit-hurts-more-than-I-can-bare kinda way.

I remember when I was in high school and I was really big on psychology and in my psych class we read about this theory that basically said that every person had the capacity to completely snap and become a total nutcase. The difference, said this theory, was the threshold of pain.

Threshold of pain. That's interesting. So basically we could all flip out tomorrow if we endured enough emotional trauma and become the things that best selling books and Lifetime movies are made of.

So I ponder this and I wonder... what's my threshold of pain?

And I wonder if I'm reaching it.

It's such a funny sensation to be falling down inside and not being able to grab hold of anything on the way down.

Last things in the playlist:

Once I believed in things unseen/ I was blinded by the dark/ Out
of the multitude to me/ He came and broke my heart/ Tell mama I loved
the man/ Even though I turned and ran/ Lovely and fine I could have been/ Laying
down in the palm of his hand
"Riverwide" Sheryl Crow

When the snows come rolling through/ You're rolling too/ With some new
lover/ Will you think of times you told me/ That you knew the reason/ Why
we had to each be lonely/ Was it just the season?
"Shoot the Moon" Norah Jones

Thursday, October 13, 2005

Oh No...Please, by all Means, do Kick Me When I'm Down

I am quite possibly the biggest fuck up in the world right now. I'm fucking up in school, I'm fucking up with friends, I'm fucking up at my job, in my relationship, in my mind. I'm not doing so great to tell you the truth. Take today for instance...

After spending the majority of the night after I got home from going to the gay club to see strippers with my ex boyfriend (yeah I know), I stayed awake half the night thinking about Almost Fiance. Sweet right?

My thoughts go something like this....

Why has it been so hard for us to talk? It sucks so much that he lives so goddamn far. Why didn't he wanna talk to me? Does he still love me? Why am I still awake? We had so much fun while he was here. I wonder what I should get him for Christmas... It's gonna be soooo goddamn cold in Alaska; I need a better coat. Is he with somebody else? Would he really cheat? Lord knows monogamy ain't his thing. But then again you shouldn't be judged by past transgressions right? I'm certainly not perfect. Speaking of not perfect, I need a manicure and pedicure before homecoming. Who's Ayanna? What's wrong with me why am I tripping at 5am? Dammit I hate when I can't sleep. Why am I all insecure all of a sudden? Can I really marry this man? Is 2010 really that far away? I am so tired of fighting with him. Why is he such an asshole? Like, he didn't used to be this mean to me. Or am I tripping? I certainly didn't imagine the whole beginning of our relationship right? SOMETHING made me stay with him all this time. Why can't I get in touch with it?

Which led to me staying up to, ohhh, around 8am or so. After finally falling to sleep and not sleeping well at all because my goddamn dorm won't turn on the heat I wake up at 12pm.

Not 9 like I was supposed to. But 12.

And I realize...


How the hell I get outta this I have no clue. You would think after having the damn clock for 4 years I would know how to set it to 'am' instead of 'pm'. I haul ass to campus only to discover the rest of my day is just as much a pointless waste of time as the morning.

I go home, do my hair before a meeting and I call Almost Fiance and I tell him about my shitty ass day. Something told me I called the wrong person. Something said Hey fuck up call your best friend, but seeing as how he's supposed to be one of my best friends and he constantly accuses me of not opening up and talking to him, I decide to call him. After a few minutes of talking, I tell him what happens. I just needed someone to talk to to take my mind off things. He does just that. After I tell him what a horrible fuck up I am, we change subjects, talk about other things. Somewhere inside 10 minutes I actually manage a real smile; by 15 minutes I am full blown laughing out loud.

And then here's where it gets fuzzy...

He starts talking to someone else in the background. Not a quick little sidebar but rather a FULL BLOWN convo. This drives me nuts. He knows this very well. I let it go. 10 minutes of this later I suggest he call me back. He takes me up on this and I get off the phone more than slightly irritated. It's not enough that I only get to see him 3 weeks outta the year, I can't even get his undivided fucking attention for 20 minutes while I tell him about my day? That's fine. Alot to ask for I'm sure. A little while later, phone rings. It's him; I pick up. We talk for a little while longer. He again has to go. Details start to get a little fuzzier. Phone rings again moments later. More talking, few laughs, irritations starts to recede. And then BAM!! He says something smart about me missing my midterm.

Am I the only one who thinks his timing sucks?

I call you because I'm having a shitty day and I'm really down on myself and all you can do is reinforce what a fuck up I am? DO I NEED THAT RIGHT NOW?!? Yes of course he was right. That is hardly the dispute. His goddamn timing is what sucks. I need someone to talk to to cheer me up, and I mistakenly call you thinking that you could be that person because you always have been in the past and now all of a sudden I'm wrong and you're on the other end of my phone wasting my daytime minutes and demanding I tell you how to be the boyfriend that, up until recently, you've always been?!? Er?


I dunno. Maybe it's me. Maybe I'm being too sensitive. But goddammit I'm tired of being strong all the goddamn time. And just when you think that maybe, MAYBE you've found one person in this whole fucked up world that you can be soft with what do they do? They kick you in the soft spot. Maybe I'm overreacting. But goddammit how many times over how many months did I listen to things I didn't agree with, didn't wanna hear, didn't wanna know because he needed to talk to someone and he felt like I was that person? How many times was I so emotionally ill-equipped to deal with the stuff he was dumping on me but I took it anyway, with no complaints, and certainly no kicking. How long did I play the doting, understanding, right-by-your-side girlfriend?

So the plot thickens considerably. Right after I get off the phone, the phone rings again and I stop breathing fire just long enough to read the caller ID. Enter Guy #2. I say hello and immediately he asks me what's wrong. I tell him about me missing my midterm, about my growing frustrations with school and life in general. I vent long enough for me to make it to campus from my dorm without ever taking a breath. When I'm done he tells me I'm sorry, that even though it was technically my fault not to beat up on myself. Gives me some suggestions on what to tell my professor. Tells me a funny story about one time he did the same thing with his alarm clock. And then for some reason he asks me where I am. I tell him what building I'm in and we keep talking. A few minutes later I feel someone hit me on my shoulder and I whirl around with the force of 10 million pounds of attitude. Guy #2 is right there, standing behind me in the hallway. I hang up my phone and get this...


No hello, no nothing. Just hugs me. He steps away and says, "You sounded like you needed that so I decided to run over here before my meeting and before you had your meeting to give you one."


I've never been one of those people that believed that the power of one kind word or deed could change someone's heart but I've been converted. I felt even the tiniest flicker of hope underneath all the dark stuff the last few years have laid on top of me. All because, for once, I didn't have to ask for, beg, demand what I needed the most; just a hug. But not so much a hug but rather what it represented; the idea that for once, maybe someone could take care of me for a change like I do to everyone else. That maybe someone could take the time to feel me, read me, talk to me, figure out what it is that I am in need of rather than giving me what they want to. It was nice.

I've been kicked alot lately. Some intentional kicks and some kicks just from people who are too careless to watch where they are stepping. And I can't decide right now which one is worse. People ask me how I am and I tell them I'm tired. "Yeah," they reply. "Me too. I didn't get much sleep last night," and I don't know how to explain to them that that's not the tired I'm speaking of. I'm tired of getting up most mornings and tired of dealing with most people. I'm tired of being strong and tired of taking care of people who only stay around long enough to get what they need. I'm tired of things and people and situations that don't benefit me. I'm tired of being there for everyone when they struggle and having no one to hold me up when I feel I'm too tired to stand. And most importantly, I'm tired of people making me feel bad when I say that I'm weak and tired and that this is how I feel. GODDAMMIT JUST TAKE IT AND STOP MAKING ME FEEL WORSE.

So I charge you with this internets: The next time you ask someone how they're doing, REALLY listen to the answer. And if it sounds like they're bullshitting you, CALL THEM ON IT. It may be exactly what they need you to do. Maybe what they're waiting on you to do. And even better, if you can take maybe 5 minutes out of your busy day to find someone and give them the hug they most desperately needed a mere 2 seconds before they lost complete and total hold on their sanity, maybe you can heel just a few of those kicks they sustained throughout the day.