Monday, December 22, 2014

...

"He that breaks a thing to find out what it is has left the path of wisdom." -Gandalf



I reach for the plumb colored towel from the toilet seat and dry myself off. 
Out of habit I rub at my eyes to make sure the make up has come off. 
But I haven't been wearing any lately. 
Midnight. 
He's at the gym.
"You're working out so late." 
Glad he can't hear me for the text as my voice would give away the worry. 
Eye cream. Face cream. Lotion the rest of me. Bed time clothes on. 
It's not hard to open the over-the-counter sleep aid, and I transfer one of the aquamarine gel capsules from my palm to my mouth. 
Help me. 
I think that over and over throughout the day. 

He broke up with me just a week ago but you wouldn't know if by the way he continued to speak to me, 
Abrupt reminders of "but we're not together" and "I love you so much but..." 
Mutual agreement to wait until we see each other but the hesitant words of thinking it might be the end.
Dull waves of pain day in and day out. 

He that breaks a thing....

I love him, and tried to love him, searching for security.
"I'll move into the guest room.."
"I would need to move out." 
"It's your choice." 

Please....

"I'm not looking for anyone." 
Out until 6 partying with his brother. 
"Wingman" is what he's being. 
"I'm not sleeping with anyone." 
Out late at the gym. 

Then aided sleep takes me, the bottle getting low. 
A promise to quit smoking tomorrow.
Frantic emotions exhaled with every puff of smoke.
The alarm rings at 10, the body rises at noon or 1. 

Help me, please....

She told me that it's a beautiful kind of pain, but it's only beautiful when the pain isn't yours.
Clinging to my phone, 
Battery dying twice a day.
Clinging to the comfort of friends and family. 
But what about when I have to go back....

To find out what it is....

What have I learned? 
Who am I? 
You don't need the affirmation of another to have worth.
You're strong, competent, capable, beautiful, intelligent... 
The positive self-talk mantras given half heartedly.

When will this sleeping pill kick in? 

You knew he cheated on you this summer. 
You found out things this fall. 
This is for the best. 
He hurts you.
What's the real price of security? 

Has left the path of wisdom....

The pre-workout falls into the glass like an avalanche and clumps, a pink bubble on top.
Swirl, swirl, swirl
I lift. 
I sleep. 
I eat now and then. 
But I never cry,
And I aways sleep...

My family thinks I should move home where I can live for free and they'll feel better about by commute to school.
My few friends in my home town think I need to move back for the support and the people that really care.
And I'm staring out the fogged up window of passing plans we made....
Those things that he made me believe in though he didn't. 
You can do this. You can do this. You can do this. 
Where do I go from here?
I would ask the question if I thought someone could give me the answer. 
Thinking, thinking, thinking. 
Has he slept with someone?
What girl is he trying to reconnect with?
What lie is he making for me?
What thing is he going to say is my fault?

Distract. Refocus. Name the emotions. Self-validation. Re-distract.

Ache. Sleep. Ache. Work out. Ache. 

Normally I would talk and talk but I find myself only able to talk to one or two friends about it.
But now I find myself unable to speak.
The pain something new.
It wasn't my first heart break, but when everything is a lie and there were life plans being made I can't help but feeling that I have come to an jarringly abrupt half...
Lost.

Motivational quotes. Kind advice and friends checking up on me. 
Tired eyes. 
Soft, half smile. 
A nod. 
Three more cigarettes.
One sleep aid. 

You broke me. 
You knew the things I carried with me, fighting to shed, and you took some then added your own.
You lied to me...
You betrayed me...
Drove me crazy and made me believe it was all my fault.

You'll be okay, I say.
I left the path of wisdom and have to begin the trek to get back on.

The lid wasn't hard to open, time to sleep again. 

Sunday, December 7, 2014

Happy?

You ever get the idea that you're not living your life?
I mean, really living your life?
Get up, go to work, go to school, cook dinner, kiss your significant other, turn on the radio in your car and sing along like it's the best thing and you tell yourself that you're happy.
Why?
Because you're not in Somalia or homeless or anything else to give you the indication that you're not happy.
But.
But you're not.
The alarm rings to single the onset of a very important day, the things you do that matter and contribute and make you fell fulfilled.
Does it though?

This is me.
I get up every day, sometimes sleeping longer than I should.
I promise more of myself from my studies than I can follow through with,
I live in an apartment with my boyfriend.
I go to the gym and text/call my friends to see how they are and when the moments come, as they always do, when I am sitting quietly alone, I tell myself I'm happy.
Why?
Because I'm not in Somalia or homeless and there's no other indication that I'm not happy.

But there is....

You ever just watch people, really watch them, and see how noisy and fleeting and on the surface it all can be?
I clean my apartment and do the laundry and as I fold his clothes I think how I care about him and it's nice to search for the stupid missing socks and clean the kitchen and do all this stuff because I'm happy.
I move forward because that's the direction you're supposed to go.
I change the things I don't think I need to because I'm happy.
I talk about things that aren't what is really bothering me because I can't keep bothering my friends with these worries that play on repeat.
Because I'm happy.

At 8:42 on Sunday night I sat on the floor in front of the coffee table with my clay project I was finishing up with paint, a Netflix movie on and every light in the place on because I decided to stop what I was doing to paint.
I thought about all the stuff that creeps up when the world is quieter and it's just you there.
While I don't know for sure what  else I would be doing, I do know that my friend is right:
Life is too short to be so miserable. Especially at so young of an age.
I've been wasting time worrying if I'm good enough, interesting or smart enough and painfully comparing myself to everyone else.
But I'm happy.

No. I'm not happy.
I just want that on record.
I am not happy.

I am in a mediocre to shitty relationship that is handy for him and leaves me questioning daily if I'm worthy enough or not and if he truly cares or not.
I don't want to work so much while I'm in graduate school.
I can't see myself as a professional in training as part of my identity yet.
I don't like keeping up on the cleaning and the laundry.
I always have these grand ideas for a writing or painting/ceramics/drawing ideas and my skill doesn't align with that idea.
I want to just pick up and travel and now that I have the opportunity to go to Guatemala for eight weeks this summer, I stupidly question whether or not I should because maybe if I go home with him this summer like he talked about, while he goes to Japan for three weeks telling me he doesn't want me to go with, maybe he'll decide he loves me for real.
I doubt my professional skills at times.
I get upset when my brownies don't turn out just so.
I hate some of the things people do but I don't say anything because I'm pretending to be happy.
Void of feeling too much and playing cool just in case.

I'm sick of fucking walking around like nothing anyone does bothers me and I'm okay with it, that I'll just try a little harder or care a little less or turn a blind eye to things.
That's wrong!
That's all wrong and not how things should be!
I'm 24 in 4 days.
It can't be another year of just continuing on the cycle until eventually the people I put more effort into than they do me eventually decide it's not worth it.

Maybe it's almost the breakthrough point.
Like maybe this is the climax when I finally decide to live for myself and not other people.
Or maybe it's just some post that comes from left field that doesn't matter.
It matters to me though, getting all of it out of my head, hoping other people think about this stuff too.
We're all putting ourselves aside or putting ourselves too far ahead and it's not right.
There's probably not any wisdom in this but I think it matters because we've all got to live with ourselves forever, that's what she said to me.
When I'm sitting alone on my living room floor painting and thinking, in that moment that's it.
There's no show, no impressing to be done or sucking up or being the most aloof.
I'm just afraid that it's too easy for all of us as people to get so distanced from who we are trying to chase a collective idea of happy, excusing what our own definitions are, being hurt or hurting to have this idea, and then when we're alone at night we don't even know who we are.
I don't.
I have a general idea but I don't always feel confident enough to go with it.

So, I don't know, just a thought.
Are you happy, truly, when you're sitting alone at home and can you be that person all the time?
If so, you got there somehow and I think it's important to know.