The last little while I’ve been about as antisocial as I get. I mean, I still spent a lot of time around people, and was happy to do so, but I didn’t seek out connections as often or as with as many people as I’m in the habit of doing. I guess I was just feeling a little bit exhausted. There is so much going on, not only in my life, but in everyone around me’s lives too, so its hard to make time for each other. Social interactions beyond some of my closest friends felt like a lot of effort, even with people I’m close with and admire and respect a lot. I guess I was just thinking about that today, and how its okay to have times like that, and that it’s important to me to form friendships that can last through time a part. Actually, in the friend making department, that is sort of my specialty, keeping in touch with people. So sometimes I get hurt feelings when the favour isn’t returned, even though I understand how much time long distance correspondence can take. I mean, I have a couple letters I need to mail right now that have been sitting on my shelf since before valentines day. I would like everyone in my life, from the past and present, that the time we spent together meant something to me, and that I still care about them even as we move on to new cities and new circles of friends. I have met too many fantastic people to be able to nurture relationships with nearly all of them, but that doesn’t change the way I feel about them or about people in general. Anyways, I’m looking forward to Coffee Pub tonight, and spending some time with the people I, uh, actually live with, as well as watching the show (and participating in it!)
Tag Archives: moving on
I promised I’d share personal things, so here it all is.
When I get hurt I feel like this: I feel dread, and panic. Fear of the unknown, suspecting the worse. I feel like holding on to that last shred of hope despite the fact that it will prolong the hurt. I feel my feeble self-esteem plummet like a rock as insecurities set in. I feel like begging for things to return to their previous state. I attempt to pretend that it’s not all over when I suspect the end has been reached. I pretend this is the exception. That things will change. That the future will bring a magic solution. But even in my head I know these are lies. I feel like honesty is easier then any other time, because what’s left to lose. Words come easily, clearly, truely. I feel mistreated, led on. I feel like eternity won’t bring change. I feel nostalgia. The past seems like a dream, and even yesterday turns fuzzy. I feel despair. A guise of friendship is like aesthetic, but tomorrow will seperate cliche and truth. I feel an eternal battle of sorts. Certain things suddenly feel unattainable, unreal, lost. And this writing is raw and unpoetic. There is no rhythm or flow, just an underlying chant of ‘I thought this time would be different’. However this writing does not to be perfect to suit my purposes. It doesn’t even have to be good. It just says that sometimes feeling suck, but sometimes it’s better to write them out then to hold on to them. They are nothing to feel ashamed of, or to hide. There is no reason to pity me, for it takes bravery to tell your truth when you feel vulnerable. To share your failures. To put yourself out there at all. That is empowerment. And when things don’t work out it sucks. But that’s okay, and it’s all a part of the great balance of things. I am learning, living, growing, and it is not worth it to regret. Learn, move on, remember.
Now you know who I am.