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apathetic
1. It is rare that heartbreak ever heals. The pain shifts from time to time, lulling you into a false sense of security and then breaks you from within. Clever.
2. Pain has a tendency to stop breath in it tracks, like a guillotine.
3. A self-portrait in a study of selfishness.
4. Fighting against yourself leaves the most lasting scars.
5. I'm sorry for anything that has hurt you, I don't mean to.
6. Keeping silent, keeps you breaking.
7. My lungs are scarred black and grey.
8. Loss leaves the biggest scars.
9. My scars match my city's.
10. I am not what you expected.
complacent
discontent
bouncy
amusedI am an interesting person. I am so full of violent contradictions between the hard nosed unfeeling badass I want to be, and the soft squishy powder puff I really am on the inside. As often is the case, those who care most deeply are the most deeply wounded. That means bigger badder walls. I feel deeply and sincerity. My words, intention, and actions have veracity and all harmonize with one another. This leaves me more vulnerable to be hurt by the people I have chosen to place my trust in. I make more of an effort then anyone I have ever met to suppress my feelings. Suppression does not mean they are not there however. It just means that it is rare for me to open up and say what I’m really feeling, even to myself. I am also under the impression that I’m a much worse person then everyone else thinks I am. They think I am vastly nicer then they are. Idiots.
All that being said, I have seen myself grow a lot in the last two years or so. When I first met Garrett even the barest hint of an emotional moment would send me storming out of the room. I have changed quite dramatically from that, and in many more subtle ways as well. It is hard to count them all. It is a general softening. The walls of ice I built around my heart are melting. Global warming. I’m even starting to come to terms with that. It does me a great deal of good to see myself allowing myself to feel. I think that in a way John is helping me finish what Garrett helped me to start. I don’t have that aggravated edge with him that always tinged our relationship. It allows me to relax even further. We’re are good for each other. Perfect in fact.
I am as beautiful on the inside as I am on the outside. My GOD when I wear a slinky dress! (Shut up, I can compliment myself you fuckers.) My intellect and quick wit make me fun to talk to and interesting to have around. As far as I can tell I’m almost worthless for advice. I think this is because if they don’t know what to do neither will I. Duh. I do try though, which is more then I can say for most people. I am also extremely reliable. When I give my word I follow through.
I’m learning about myself as a person. I’m different now than I was yesterday, different now than I was yesteryear. I’m uncovering little bits of myself, positive things, negative things, but ultimately things I treasure because it’s all me. It’s the culmination of all my experiences that makes me who I am. And trust me, I love who I am. It’s not really a matter of ego. I’ve just gotten to the point that I’m a person I’d like to know. I see someone who’s strong, someone who’s honest, someone who can care about others, someone who would throw herself in the line of fire for her friends. Someone who’s cocky, and strangely shy. Someone who’s good at a lot of things, and rubbish at a lot of others. Someone who cries when she looks at the stars because it’s all so insignificant and pointless and beautiful.
I’m better now, at any case.
Oh, don’t get me wrong. I don’t think my life was that hard, that bad. There were lots of good times, too, and they defined me just as much as the bad. But the bad things were the part of me that I tried to hide, forget about, or bury. They kept overwhelming me in the small moments of my life, and more than once I’ve felt like I was drowning in my history.
I’m not writing this for anyone but me. I don’t really feel like need to, but it’s cathartic in its own little way. Maybe that's why I'm doing it. I no longer care what people think of me when they know the other side of who I am. I don't care if people think I'm weak, or try to pity me, or whatever. There's a general blanket of benevolent apathy. Which is a tricky emotional place to be, fer serious.
I think this is one of the reasons I’m so very gender-neutral in how I perceive myself. I’ve never been a victim of anything, anyone, or any circumstances life could throw at me. I’m just me, take it or leave it.
I was in a walking mood tonight. Pretty much all my friends were out on their own adventures, and the twins and Sara were conked out with John on the couch, and I was in no mood to deal with crying tonight.
So I found myself taking the T to Park Street, from whence I decided to go all the way to the S curves because I wanted to walk over the bridge. I like waiting for the trains at the very edge of the station where they first pull in. I stand right at the edge of the yellow line and wait for them to speed by. I don't know why, but I love the feel of the air rushing by and the train speeding by, inches from my face. I stood so close to the opening of the tunnel tonight that I felt the shockwave of air right in front of the train hit me.
The cars going over the bridge were very loud, and kept scaring me coming up behind me. I stopped thinking for a little while, so maybe my senses were making a much bigger deal out of these things because I wouldn't let my brain do much of anything else for a bit.
Then there was the matter of finding my way to the Common from the end of the bridge. You see, I did this walk a lot earlier with the twins, but it was during the day and the opposite direction. I knew we walked through the square behind the state house, so I tried to find my way through. I failed, but I realized that it is one of the places I wanted like to live after I graduated. I like my home though. I went back to the main road, knowing it would eventually take me to some road whose name I recognized, but thankfully I didn't have to go that far, because I saw the state house down one of the streets. I ended up walking around about half of it, and it's really impressive, especially in all the floodlights that are designed to make it look that way. The house easily led me back to the common, where I let my brain start functioning fully again. I realized that I have a lot of really great memories in Providence, many of them in that little area.
I walked past the playground where Petra and I watched a dad playing with his restless little kids at 9:30 at night after doing a lot of T riding and walking around. There was the cold night where Garrett and I took a T ride just to walk around the commons and public garden. There was the night Leah and I saw a van hit a cop car at 2 in the morning on Commonwealth while we stopped to rest and sit on the base of a statue and talked about high school.
Providence has been good to me. It may not be consistently kind, but overall, I think it likes me, and I like it too. I like being able to have an interesting, well-lit, approximately 10-mile walk and have it feel like nothing. I like not dealing with people who mean well, but still smother me a little when I'm home. I like the army of taxicabs that emerges every night and takes over the roads until it is so late that there are no cars in the road so you can just walk down Gordon without fear of death. I like everything being so close together
From Shelby on there were annoying drunk people and couples holding each other and kissing, but I didn't let it bother me. I wanted to be alone, so I tried my best to pretend they weren't there. It didn't work, but they didn't really ruin anything.
My thoughts were fully consumed by the time I reached the T. I was back in a world of non-crying fantasies and dwelling on things I've already realized don't matter one bit, but I think that needed to happen at some point. It still didn't ruin anything .I know some people who danced it off tonight. While they were doing their thing, I was walking it off in good old baseball fashion. I think all I have to show for it is a calmer mind for the night and slightly thicker calluses on my feet, but it was a good remedy, so I came home and read, and ate a sleeve of the Townhouse crackers I bought earlier tonight, and I read some more because now that I don’t sleep at all I’ve found that I can’t. Period. Ever. All the while I have been listening to The Jena Campaign whose shirt I was wearing today, and whose lead singer writes lyrics that are so amazing that I am pretty sure he is the man that they were searching for in that book I never read, The DaVinci Code.
anxious