Just One of Those Days

Just one of those days
Where I'm convinced
That no body cares.

Were the days easier when I didn't love you?

Yesterday, he and I were having conversation with an adult about university. It was all very interesting, until the adult said THE most awkward thing that could possibly be brought up in that context:

"So, if you go to Queen's, and you go to McGill, that's not too much of a driving distance, you could still be together!"

At this moment, I cringed inside. We both shrugged it off, I, laughing politely, and he, replying, "We've still got another year so..."

Oh, how I wonder what was implied in that ellipsis. After that, my heart started getting intermittent feelings of adrenaline, which I eventually traced back to feelings of dread.

I'm completely aware that yes, we do in fact have another year, and a lot can happen in year. Meaning, I'm aware that we could break up. But I also think that things could work out.
So I have two theories about what the ellipsis could've meant. First, he could be trying to cover up for my benefit. I'd like to think that this relationship problem of indefinite duration is common to most, if not all relationships, especially between adolescents. So, maybe he's feeling the same I am: he doesn't know where things are going, but he doesn't want to make me feel trapped, just like he doesn't want to feel trapped. By reminding us that we still have another year reminds us that maybe we'll fall out of love, but we'll be fine. And then we'll move on with our lives, and remember each other as the ones that we first loved.

But there's part of me that believes the second theory, which is that he's totally closed to the idea of being with me after high school. I'm afraid that I'm just the one he'll remember from high school, and that' all I'll ever be. That could happen, but it upsets me because that's not what I want. That's what I'm willing to accept, but it's not what I want. And I'm afraid because what he said once, which at the time really hurt me, could actually be true.
"I just think that the longer we stay together, the more it will hurt if we break up."
This preceded the response of me saying, while drowning in my own tears, "If you want out of the relationship, then just end it now." I think that's the most hurtful thing I've ever said to him because he didn't want that.
But he could be, and probably is right. I know that the pain the end of our relationship would be surreal and numbing, and it'd take awhile to be ok again.
And that's the pain that I now know as the adrenaline feeling in my heart. I'm afraid of the pain I'd feel if this ended. I really didn't know what I was getting into when I said those three words:
"I love you."

Was it easier when I didn't love him? Maybe. Probably. But I don't regret anything about us. It just makes me who I am. But it was easier when I didn't know the potential of the pain I could suffer.

But I know that if anything bad were to happen, it would be the same for him.

So maybe everything will work out, and he'll be the one I marry and spend the rest of my life with.
Or he'll be the one that I remember as the first one with whom I ever fell in love.

HOLYFUCKINGTITSCHRISTMOTHERFUCKERJESUSTAKETHEWHEELHOLYSHIT

... I finally wrote part of a chorus I actually like.

We'll see where this goes..

Here's to Hope

In hoping that you understand. I'm not going to shut down like I usually would. Here's fighting myself. Here's fighting the insecurity. Here's fighting being mean towards me. Here's fighting for our friendship.

Inferiority Complex

noun A persistent sense of inadequacy or a tendency to self-diminshment, sometimes resulting in excessive aggressiveness through overcompensation.

Double Entendre

I've decided that I'm living for myself. I'm living life the way it's meant to be lived: in the moment, no one bringing you down. I don't mean living selfishly, but I need to be me. I've spen way too long caring what others think. I won't do that any more. I'm angry I've let myself get like this, because it hurts all of the time. But it won't any more. I'm going to love. I'm going to laugh. I'm going to live. You've hurt me. You've taken me for granted. You're rude to me, and I just take it. Well, I won't now. You'll see soon these changes I've made. You'll know soon the mistakes you've made. I'll forgive you. And you'll forgive yourself. I'm not being mean, I'm just being real It seems to me you don't care what I feel. I've always played nice, I've always been there And in the end you just don't seem to care. Show me you do. I love you, and I'll never leave. But you have to stop hurting me.

13

Two kids were walking home together one ominous June afternoon. A heavy heat hung in the air as dark clouds loomed above, threatening to burst into a mighty storm. They were pretty good friends, and had been for a few months now. Though, he had begun to have feelings for her, feelings which were unrequited at the time. She really only liked him as a friend, and wasn't too interested in a relationship anyway. The two kids walked side by side, talking about the day's boring math class, orchestrated by an enthusiastic teacher to kids who were only day dreaming of the impending summer. Days in the classroom had grown too hot to actually concentrate on learning. As they walked, the girl wondered if he was thinking about kissing her. She wasn't sure exactly how she felt about this, but was too afraid to think about anything past the possibility. Suddenly, a few rain drops hit the girl's arm. "I think it's starting to rain," the girl said, "and I'm pretty sure I just heard thunder." "Maybe," the boy said, "Hopefully we don't get caught in the storm." But they did. It started pouring, thunder clapping and lightening striking the sky, as the two kids laughed and quickened their pace. "Give me your backpack," the boy said to the girl, "We're gonna run." And so, amidst the booming storm, the girl gave him the backpack, and they ran together, as fast as they could. They ran all the way into their neighbourhood, rain hitting their heads, lightening striking excitement into their hearts. They had never felt so exhilerated in their lives, running like they were for their lives, laughing and screaming in joy. They made it to the girl's house after about ten minutes - the boy wanted to make sure she made it home safely. As she approached the door, she turned to him. "Are you going to be okay to get home?" she almost yelled over the sound of the storm. "I'll be fine. I just wanted to make sure you made it home." He replied, and he gave her a goofy smile and turned to leave. He made it home safely that day. They were friends for the next year, and then they graduated elementary school together. Once high school came, she never saw him again. He moved five hours away, and they never really kept contact. Now and then the girl thinks about him, and what he's like now. Sometimes she wonders whether or not she actually was in love with him, and maybe she should've tried to kiss him herself. But I was so young back then.

Apparently

... I've got some crazy subconcious brain block going on. I haven't been able to write a decent song since December. I'm ok with making good piano chord progressions and melodies, but I can't find words. I can't find what I want to make it all pretty and rhyming. The problem is that every time I attempt to write some form of lyrics down, all of my jumbled thoughts come rushing forward, all crowding into each other, subsequently blocking the passage of any of the thoughts. It's incredibly frustrating. I have a theory that I have to spend some time clearing my brain first, and find some inspiration. That's actually the biggest problem, inspiration. I keep thinking I have enough to write about, and I think I do, but nothing comes as I try to summon words to describe it. Tonight, sitting at the piano, I started 3 songs. And each time after writing only one stanza, I would decide that I hate the song and give up. So now I'm left with two options: I can either try forcing myself to sit in front of the piano every day trying to write a song, or let inspiration find me without trying. Honestly, the latter feels like the better option at this point. Maybe if I just start by writing words down, something will eventually enter my brain that's worth forming into a song. It's just frustrating because this used to come so naturally. And it's like I've lost it. Can all lost things be found again?

Lover

Dear Lover, I love you.

"Get Over It."

I say to myself. Because it's not your fault, not at all. I love you still, and I always will. But it only comes down to one thing. Jealousy. I've experienced this before. Just when I thought I was feeling pretty secure in a friendship, something happens, someone happens, and I just... don't. Here's how I feel: for one, inadequate. I've always been insecure about how others perceive me, so it makes sense that I'd feel this way when you talk about being so excited to go see them. I feel like my presence isn't exciting enough. And it's probably not. "Get over it." I repeat to myself. Honestly, I don't even know what I want from this situation. I'm just feeling really alone. I know I have other friends, but they all have someone else, or don't need someone else. And I have him, but I can't destroy the standing structure we have; he has his friends, his people, and I have mine. But the thing is, I won't try to change anything. I'll just sit back, because you're happy, and that's all that matters to me. You're happy, they make you happy. You don't know this, and maybe you never will, but I'm always trying to impress you. I'm always seeking your approval. I always worry I've said something stupid and you'll stop talking to me. I always worry that you don't care. I always worry that you won't need me as much as I need you. I can make a generalization about this, and my life: I'm scared of the people I'm really close to, because they know how to break me. OK, well, hopefully I feel better after this. There's always tomorrow, right? And if you happen to read this, let me know, because I'd be willing to talk about it. Don't get me wrong, soulmate, I love you and you're my absolute best friend. I just worry that I'm losing you because of this deep rooted feeling of inferiority. There will always be someone better than me.