"Love is a temporary madness, it erupts like volcanoes and then subsides. And when it subsides, you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots have so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is. Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the promulgation of promises of eternal passion, it is not the desire to mate every second minute of the day, it is not lying awake at night imagining that he is kissing every cranny of your body. No, don't blush, I am telling you some truths. That is just being "in love", which any fool can do. Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident."
- Louis de Bernières
Apparently a book I have to read.
Wednesday, October 15, 2014
Sunday, October 5, 2014
The satisfaction and sadness of being proven right
Quick thought: since it did, in fact end up being the case that he didn't really have feelings for me, which was something I had been insecure about throughout our relationship, does that mean I'm not crazy and insecure but just intuitive?
Saturday, October 4, 2014
Same old same new
I don't even know where to start.
Chronologically seems simplest, the best way to start untangling the myriad ties and interactions between us that end up boiling down to the simple truth behind our relationship - I always have and always will care more.
We talked after graduation, when I managed to say at least some of the things that I typed out in that last 'letter' to him that I posted. When he first came over, it seemed surprisingly natural but I couldn't let go of that sense of awkwardness. When I brought it up, though, he seemed taken aback and suggested that I kept suggesting the awkwardness which created it.
We ended up talking on the balcony, I remember it being chilly but being reluctant to huddle too close to him for warmth. I managed to wring out my insides and express some of the things - that we didn't feel like real friends now, that I couldn't trust him, and that he really had hurt me.
He seemed very sad after I had said them, and apologized, and then suggested that what I had said meant that it would be impossible for us to be friends. But I clarified that I did (somehow) miss the friendship and my statements were things I had to express, but after this I would like to move on and not discuss them again, and I felt like maybe we could build up the closeness again. Naturally, the conversation involved a lot more silences and pauses and moments where I thought I would simply die and wondered why things were never as simple as some movies made it seem (not the really good ones though).
That night, we watched a movie and I fell asleep (not quite) on him on the couch. After some movement, I made the conscious decision to leave him there, brought him a blanket, but didn't end up sleeping much alone on my own bed.
The next time he came over, we ended up in a similar situation with his hands grasped around my wrists and me half on him in the couch, in the dark after we had watched some horror videos. After a short lull, I said I had something to say to him, wanting to bring up a thought I had been turning over in my mind for longer than I should have. He asked if it was something that would make him sad again, and I replied in the negative.
Finally it burst out of me, and he was silent for a little in his customary way. He mentioned that he didn't want the repeat of what I had mentioned in my concerns about our friendship - my feelings developing again - because he didn't want to lose our friendship. I clarified that I couldn't promise anything, but that I was suggesting this meant that I didn't think it was going to happen. I clarified that this would be a summer thing, and end after.
After a quick interlude of brushing and changing, we tumbled into bed together (literally, I remember thinking about the fact that we were sideways and the pillows were under us) and spent an inordinate amount of time making out while I revelled in the familiarity and enjoyment. We alternated this with talking and laughter and music and it felt wonderful but not the same as our romantic moments, which was reassuring. After all, our hooking up had never really been the part of our relationship that made my heart skip a beat, that was more when he held my hand or put his arm around me.
Our hooking up was much the same as usual, and the first couple of weeks of summer followed this pattern. We would see each other once every week or two, since schedules never quite seemed to align. It was interrupted by my grad trip with friends, but was generally nice. I went over to his house during a rainstorm when I was upset about what seemed like a close friend (who has a girlfriend) hitting on me, and he was a good friend and also came home and kept me company. I discovered he really doesn't seem to think about things, such as when he left for the night with me, with his roommates clearly a little bit confused but no apparent explanation from him.
There was some reversion into familiar patterns where we cuddled when watching movies, with his arm around me, and kissing goodbye in the morning and sometimes cuddling at night. However, all of this was a lot less frequent than it had been and a lot less than I would have liked, and was often prompted by me. Still, it was nice, and still didn't feel like it was crossing over into the border of being a relationship.
He had the spare key to my apartment since my roommates were gone. I rationalized this as him being the only friend who didn't work as much and was around more of the time, but really I quite enjoyed the feeling of him being able to get in while I wasn't there and pick up things as needed (usually food I forgot about).
There were moments of conflict over the summer, where his usual 'flakiness' (or what I characterized as it) popped up again, making me realize how upset I would have been about these things had we still been dating. At the start we explained these away with our differing personalities, and just tried to appreciate the other more. I also avoided giving my friends too many details, since most of them trusted me but were at least vaguely disapproving, which I understood.
(warning?)
Oh. Yes. We had sex. It seems like I'm presenting it casually, but that's because it wasn't that big of a deal. I'm more confused about how to feel about it now, because of later events, but at the time it went the way I wanted it to.
I'd been thinking about it through the summer, saw no reason to not try it with someone I was comfortable with and cared about, and didn't think it would cause more attachment than any of our other hooking up activities. We discussed it half-jokingly in a conversation where I also finally brought up the fact that he had never actually reciprocated the oral part (and he seemed certain he had) and decided to just go for it one night, although we had no protection or preparation. He mentioned that he'd heard that it would be better to not use condoms the first time (and we didn't have anyway), so he could better feel his way around, and it was a little irresponsible, but we decided the pull out method would be fine.
We didn't quite spend enough time doing other stuff before, and something happened that I'd been vaguely concerned about. I was too nervous, and our combined inexperience led to the feeling that we were (literally) hitting a wall. I was too afraid of pain to continue, and even after going really slow, we ended up getting it only one-third of the way in. Apparently I'm uptight in a lot of ways (in all seriousness, my nervousness and impatience didn't help). He was pretty chill about the whole thing, but I couldn't help blaming myself.
After research and conversations with friends, I discovered how normal this was, and when we tried again, we had condoms and lube and patience and time. We ended up getting dinner before to make the evening a little more special, and it was nice and relaxed and I didn't feel in the mood for tiramisu we had promised to get after dinner (I did pick up some the next time before our next encounter, although combining this with spicy food and beer was a recipe for a stomache the next day).
It was still slow and surprisingly awkward (none of the books and movies tell you about that part), but with manoeuvring and angles, we figured it out. At the opportune time, he put on a condom, and we continued. It was okay, it was fun but it wasn't spectacular or mind-blowing and I just figured it would take more time and experience to figure out. I was just glad I managed it without pain, and with someone I cared about, and I didn't even bleed (apart from a little the next day).
The next time wasn't too much better, he seemed surprised that it wasn't instantly easier. I knew that angles and stuff would take some time to figure out. He kept driving me towards the head of the bed, which was a little awkward. We ended up getting a little sweaty for the first time despite the cooler night. It still wasn't particularly great for me, though there were moments when I could see that it would be. He was confused at times as to whether the sounds I was making were pleasure or pain, and seemed concerned about hurting me until finally I blurted out that I would shout "PAIN" if this were the case.
I remember little things, about my hands curled around his relatively bony hips, and the weight of his body above me, and how he started being more familiar and tugging me back down after I'd been driven up the bed (which was what I wanted), or how oral sex was less unnerving than I thought it would be. The sensation of sex itself was unlike anything I'd ever felt before, and interesting would probably be the most accurate word to describe it.
That ended up being it, we only really had sex two and a half times before conflict came up. I was disappointed by this, part of the reason I was being so pushy about hanging out more with him was that I wanted to figure out the sex thing, and more practice would only help. But. He saw it differently. I was also right in that I didn't feel more attached than normal hooking up.
Long story short, there started being more conflict towards the end of the summer. I was of the mentality where I was willing to push things aside to make the most of remaining time, but he was not. It was a mix of different things - me not realizing the extent of his commitments over the summer, our schedules not quite lining up, him growing a little less interested in just hooking up.
It came to a head with about a week to go, when I confronted him about his seeming lack of concern for me as a friend, and he turned around and told me that I had actually been not appreciating him as a friend and always somewhat pressuring him into hooking up despite saying it was okay if he just came over and slept. At first I was taken aback and hurt, but I thought about it and realized he was right.
Part of it was about trying to keep him at a distance as a friend to prevent emotions from resurfacing, and part of it was taking our breakup as licence to be less nice to him than most friends and more easily triggered by things he did, and the result was that we really weren't quite friends any more. And since he wasn't feeling the hooking up as much any more, there was not much left there. It made sense that I had felt and acted the way I had, but I still wasn't proud of it.
So I went over to drop off chocolate, and ended up going back (after leaving once and feeling awkward and awful) and apologizing. He seemed to go back on some of the things he said and didn't seem as angry with me as I assumed, suggesting I was being too hard on myself. We sorted things out, and decided that hooking up was probably best off the table, since it had complicated things between us.
Still, in my head I still felt as though we could revisit the topic at some point. After all, we had already had sex that summer.
The next time we hung out, after I had moved out of town (but not too far), he seemed busy and I felt awkward and as though I was intruding. I kept asking random questions, and somehow this led to a revelation I'm not sure I would have rather known.
Essentially, he revealed that he had not been physically attracted to me for a while, and would rather have slept than hooked up a lot of the times we did. He would probably never hook up with me again. He tried to soften it, by saying it wasn't that he hadn't enjoyed it, but he had been very tired and busy this summer. He had been attracted to his previous girlfriend, but had had a period of depression since their breakup (and other life circumstances) and wasn't sure he would feel that way about anyone after. All these facts were in response to (masochistic) questions I asked.
They still hurt, and he seemed a little surprised that they did. I still don't quite understand the way he thinks about all of this. It hurt my pride a lot. I didn't actually know about the depression thing (and he seemed convinced that I did) although he had mentioned related things and I just hadn't put together the pieces or had imagined things were better than he phrased them.
I avoided talking to him for three weeks after. Later, I realized I was no longer really angry.
His defence was that of course he was sorry for hurting my feelings, but it was impossible to avoid the topic because I kept bringing it up and pushing the issue and he didn't want to lie to me. I understand that, I thought at the time why I was asking questions I didn't necessarily want to know the answers to. However, I think (narrowly) that I always would rather know. I've never been less sure about this though.
I've just been incredibly mixed up - it's hard to pinpoint any clear feelings. Even after he said it, I expected to be very hurt, but just felt somewhat distant and pretty embarrassed and annoyed. Mostly I railed at the unfairness of him not developing feelings for me - in an ideal world he would have been at least attracted to me physically. I've been trying to - uncharacteristically - not analyze it too much, but have been unable to quite reconcile my feelings. I've let it go (mostly), but definitely not entirely.
We hung out one time after, and it was actually very nice. I remembered why I liked being friends with him because we talked and watched TV and it was relaxing and nice. It feels as though our 'friendship' is still full of these bumps though - conflicts that seem ready to spring back out, things I keep turning over in my mind, my inability to feel completely relaxed about the whole thing, his not seeming to treat me as well as a great friend would.
At times, I cringe at the absolute grovelling lack of spine it seems to indicate that I choose to care about and spend time with someone who has repeatedly reinforced (and in unintentional small doses continues to reinforce) the fact that he does not love me, never had romantic feelings for me, and appears to now even be dubious about me as a friend. Although I think I misspoke - if only it were so easy to choose to care or not.
It's not as though I could discuss this with anyone - friends would encourage me to do things that are obvious and sensible yet impossible (take space, cut off contact, don't make plans), and he would probably somewhat weary of my inability to be able to let go of the issues between us and just allow us to be simple friends.
Another complication is (despite everything) I really miss the hooking up. Of course it wasn't great, but being close to another person in that way is great and in some part of my head it's just impossible to accept the things he said about it or assume that he really doesn't want to do it again. Or I have questions about whether he was ever really into it, but some part of me knows that I can't ask.
A recent way I've calibrated this in my head is that I'm simply putting on an act of pretending to be friends with him. Building up his affection for me again and his closeness, while investing not that much of myself into it. Then being able to discard him once he cares enough. Part of me is hoping that I'll let go of the resentment at some point in this process, and that this plan will allow me to pause wanting to further discuss things and bury feelings of confusion and not quite being satisfied with everything.
For a couple of instants I think that I might like him again. And the first thing I want to do is tell him. Even though it's stupid and ridiculous and indicates I have no pride and seems impossible, somehow I forget all the hurt and unevenness of our relationship and simply want to spend more time with him and imagine how easy it would have been if he had simply liked me. Which is true in a sense, but false in most ways.
Chronologically seems simplest, the best way to start untangling the myriad ties and interactions between us that end up boiling down to the simple truth behind our relationship - I always have and always will care more.
We talked after graduation, when I managed to say at least some of the things that I typed out in that last 'letter' to him that I posted. When he first came over, it seemed surprisingly natural but I couldn't let go of that sense of awkwardness. When I brought it up, though, he seemed taken aback and suggested that I kept suggesting the awkwardness which created it.
We ended up talking on the balcony, I remember it being chilly but being reluctant to huddle too close to him for warmth. I managed to wring out my insides and express some of the things - that we didn't feel like real friends now, that I couldn't trust him, and that he really had hurt me.
He seemed very sad after I had said them, and apologized, and then suggested that what I had said meant that it would be impossible for us to be friends. But I clarified that I did (somehow) miss the friendship and my statements were things I had to express, but after this I would like to move on and not discuss them again, and I felt like maybe we could build up the closeness again. Naturally, the conversation involved a lot more silences and pauses and moments where I thought I would simply die and wondered why things were never as simple as some movies made it seem (not the really good ones though).
That night, we watched a movie and I fell asleep (not quite) on him on the couch. After some movement, I made the conscious decision to leave him there, brought him a blanket, but didn't end up sleeping much alone on my own bed.
The next time he came over, we ended up in a similar situation with his hands grasped around my wrists and me half on him in the couch, in the dark after we had watched some horror videos. After a short lull, I said I had something to say to him, wanting to bring up a thought I had been turning over in my mind for longer than I should have. He asked if it was something that would make him sad again, and I replied in the negative.
Finally it burst out of me, and he was silent for a little in his customary way. He mentioned that he didn't want the repeat of what I had mentioned in my concerns about our friendship - my feelings developing again - because he didn't want to lose our friendship. I clarified that I couldn't promise anything, but that I was suggesting this meant that I didn't think it was going to happen. I clarified that this would be a summer thing, and end after.
After a quick interlude of brushing and changing, we tumbled into bed together (literally, I remember thinking about the fact that we were sideways and the pillows were under us) and spent an inordinate amount of time making out while I revelled in the familiarity and enjoyment. We alternated this with talking and laughter and music and it felt wonderful but not the same as our romantic moments, which was reassuring. After all, our hooking up had never really been the part of our relationship that made my heart skip a beat, that was more when he held my hand or put his arm around me.
Our hooking up was much the same as usual, and the first couple of weeks of summer followed this pattern. We would see each other once every week or two, since schedules never quite seemed to align. It was interrupted by my grad trip with friends, but was generally nice. I went over to his house during a rainstorm when I was upset about what seemed like a close friend (who has a girlfriend) hitting on me, and he was a good friend and also came home and kept me company. I discovered he really doesn't seem to think about things, such as when he left for the night with me, with his roommates clearly a little bit confused but no apparent explanation from him.
There was some reversion into familiar patterns where we cuddled when watching movies, with his arm around me, and kissing goodbye in the morning and sometimes cuddling at night. However, all of this was a lot less frequent than it had been and a lot less than I would have liked, and was often prompted by me. Still, it was nice, and still didn't feel like it was crossing over into the border of being a relationship.
He had the spare key to my apartment since my roommates were gone. I rationalized this as him being the only friend who didn't work as much and was around more of the time, but really I quite enjoyed the feeling of him being able to get in while I wasn't there and pick up things as needed (usually food I forgot about).
There were moments of conflict over the summer, where his usual 'flakiness' (or what I characterized as it) popped up again, making me realize how upset I would have been about these things had we still been dating. At the start we explained these away with our differing personalities, and just tried to appreciate the other more. I also avoided giving my friends too many details, since most of them trusted me but were at least vaguely disapproving, which I understood.
(warning?)
Oh. Yes. We had sex. It seems like I'm presenting it casually, but that's because it wasn't that big of a deal. I'm more confused about how to feel about it now, because of later events, but at the time it went the way I wanted it to.
I'd been thinking about it through the summer, saw no reason to not try it with someone I was comfortable with and cared about, and didn't think it would cause more attachment than any of our other hooking up activities. We discussed it half-jokingly in a conversation where I also finally brought up the fact that he had never actually reciprocated the oral part (and he seemed certain he had) and decided to just go for it one night, although we had no protection or preparation. He mentioned that he'd heard that it would be better to not use condoms the first time (and we didn't have anyway), so he could better feel his way around, and it was a little irresponsible, but we decided the pull out method would be fine.
We didn't quite spend enough time doing other stuff before, and something happened that I'd been vaguely concerned about. I was too nervous, and our combined inexperience led to the feeling that we were (literally) hitting a wall. I was too afraid of pain to continue, and even after going really slow, we ended up getting it only one-third of the way in. Apparently I'm uptight in a lot of ways (in all seriousness, my nervousness and impatience didn't help). He was pretty chill about the whole thing, but I couldn't help blaming myself.
After research and conversations with friends, I discovered how normal this was, and when we tried again, we had condoms and lube and patience and time. We ended up getting dinner before to make the evening a little more special, and it was nice and relaxed and I didn't feel in the mood for tiramisu we had promised to get after dinner (I did pick up some the next time before our next encounter, although combining this with spicy food and beer was a recipe for a stomache the next day).
It was still slow and surprisingly awkward (none of the books and movies tell you about that part), but with manoeuvring and angles, we figured it out. At the opportune time, he put on a condom, and we continued. It was okay, it was fun but it wasn't spectacular or mind-blowing and I just figured it would take more time and experience to figure out. I was just glad I managed it without pain, and with someone I cared about, and I didn't even bleed (apart from a little the next day).
The next time wasn't too much better, he seemed surprised that it wasn't instantly easier. I knew that angles and stuff would take some time to figure out. He kept driving me towards the head of the bed, which was a little awkward. We ended up getting a little sweaty for the first time despite the cooler night. It still wasn't particularly great for me, though there were moments when I could see that it would be. He was confused at times as to whether the sounds I was making were pleasure or pain, and seemed concerned about hurting me until finally I blurted out that I would shout "PAIN" if this were the case.
I remember little things, about my hands curled around his relatively bony hips, and the weight of his body above me, and how he started being more familiar and tugging me back down after I'd been driven up the bed (which was what I wanted), or how oral sex was less unnerving than I thought it would be. The sensation of sex itself was unlike anything I'd ever felt before, and interesting would probably be the most accurate word to describe it.
That ended up being it, we only really had sex two and a half times before conflict came up. I was disappointed by this, part of the reason I was being so pushy about hanging out more with him was that I wanted to figure out the sex thing, and more practice would only help. But. He saw it differently. I was also right in that I didn't feel more attached than normal hooking up.
Long story short, there started being more conflict towards the end of the summer. I was of the mentality where I was willing to push things aside to make the most of remaining time, but he was not. It was a mix of different things - me not realizing the extent of his commitments over the summer, our schedules not quite lining up, him growing a little less interested in just hooking up.
It came to a head with about a week to go, when I confronted him about his seeming lack of concern for me as a friend, and he turned around and told me that I had actually been not appreciating him as a friend and always somewhat pressuring him into hooking up despite saying it was okay if he just came over and slept. At first I was taken aback and hurt, but I thought about it and realized he was right.
Part of it was about trying to keep him at a distance as a friend to prevent emotions from resurfacing, and part of it was taking our breakup as licence to be less nice to him than most friends and more easily triggered by things he did, and the result was that we really weren't quite friends any more. And since he wasn't feeling the hooking up as much any more, there was not much left there. It made sense that I had felt and acted the way I had, but I still wasn't proud of it.
So I went over to drop off chocolate, and ended up going back (after leaving once and feeling awkward and awful) and apologizing. He seemed to go back on some of the things he said and didn't seem as angry with me as I assumed, suggesting I was being too hard on myself. We sorted things out, and decided that hooking up was probably best off the table, since it had complicated things between us.
Still, in my head I still felt as though we could revisit the topic at some point. After all, we had already had sex that summer.
The next time we hung out, after I had moved out of town (but not too far), he seemed busy and I felt awkward and as though I was intruding. I kept asking random questions, and somehow this led to a revelation I'm not sure I would have rather known.
Essentially, he revealed that he had not been physically attracted to me for a while, and would rather have slept than hooked up a lot of the times we did. He would probably never hook up with me again. He tried to soften it, by saying it wasn't that he hadn't enjoyed it, but he had been very tired and busy this summer. He had been attracted to his previous girlfriend, but had had a period of depression since their breakup (and other life circumstances) and wasn't sure he would feel that way about anyone after. All these facts were in response to (masochistic) questions I asked.
They still hurt, and he seemed a little surprised that they did. I still don't quite understand the way he thinks about all of this. It hurt my pride a lot. I didn't actually know about the depression thing (and he seemed convinced that I did) although he had mentioned related things and I just hadn't put together the pieces or had imagined things were better than he phrased them.
I avoided talking to him for three weeks after. Later, I realized I was no longer really angry.
His defence was that of course he was sorry for hurting my feelings, but it was impossible to avoid the topic because I kept bringing it up and pushing the issue and he didn't want to lie to me. I understand that, I thought at the time why I was asking questions I didn't necessarily want to know the answers to. However, I think (narrowly) that I always would rather know. I've never been less sure about this though.
I've just been incredibly mixed up - it's hard to pinpoint any clear feelings. Even after he said it, I expected to be very hurt, but just felt somewhat distant and pretty embarrassed and annoyed. Mostly I railed at the unfairness of him not developing feelings for me - in an ideal world he would have been at least attracted to me physically. I've been trying to - uncharacteristically - not analyze it too much, but have been unable to quite reconcile my feelings. I've let it go (mostly), but definitely not entirely.
We hung out one time after, and it was actually very nice. I remembered why I liked being friends with him because we talked and watched TV and it was relaxing and nice. It feels as though our 'friendship' is still full of these bumps though - conflicts that seem ready to spring back out, things I keep turning over in my mind, my inability to feel completely relaxed about the whole thing, his not seeming to treat me as well as a great friend would.
At times, I cringe at the absolute grovelling lack of spine it seems to indicate that I choose to care about and spend time with someone who has repeatedly reinforced (and in unintentional small doses continues to reinforce) the fact that he does not love me, never had romantic feelings for me, and appears to now even be dubious about me as a friend. Although I think I misspoke - if only it were so easy to choose to care or not.
It's not as though I could discuss this with anyone - friends would encourage me to do things that are obvious and sensible yet impossible (take space, cut off contact, don't make plans), and he would probably somewhat weary of my inability to be able to let go of the issues between us and just allow us to be simple friends.
Another complication is (despite everything) I really miss the hooking up. Of course it wasn't great, but being close to another person in that way is great and in some part of my head it's just impossible to accept the things he said about it or assume that he really doesn't want to do it again. Or I have questions about whether he was ever really into it, but some part of me knows that I can't ask.
A recent way I've calibrated this in my head is that I'm simply putting on an act of pretending to be friends with him. Building up his affection for me again and his closeness, while investing not that much of myself into it. Then being able to discard him once he cares enough. Part of me is hoping that I'll let go of the resentment at some point in this process, and that this plan will allow me to pause wanting to further discuss things and bury feelings of confusion and not quite being satisfied with everything.
For a couple of instants I think that I might like him again. And the first thing I want to do is tell him. Even though it's stupid and ridiculous and indicates I have no pride and seems impossible, somehow I forget all the hurt and unevenness of our relationship and simply want to spend more time with him and imagine how easy it would have been if he had simply liked me. Which is true in a sense, but false in most ways.
Thursday, October 2, 2014
Return
I have returned here - in the usual mix of hormones and boredom with which I usually begin posts. Tonight, I'm listening to jazz music and felt the itch to write. It's an urge that has struck me with less frequency in recent years but that dominated my earlier years.
To be honest, a mix of reading and PMS and jazz and rain outside produced a jumbled maelstrom of emotions in me. I'm hoping that writing will (as usual) enable me to organize and sort and simplify them in the way that allows me to deal with them.
On the surface of it, since the last time I've written, a number of large life changes have happened. Obviously I feel entirely the same. Perhaps this is why in the last month or so, a weird sense of idsplacement and inertia has been lurking on the corners of my consciousness. I've spent many minutes staring at this screen trying to find a way to describe these feelings without overdramatizing them or even just trying to find the words and yet it continues to seem impossible. Not completely understanding the way I've been feeling or the whys and hows of it is probably a contributor to the problem.
Depression is a word that has occurred to me at times, and though I have once in a while felt the urge that nothing quite matters and 'whelming' anhedonia, I fail to match any of the real symptoms and thus do not deign to use it. The sense of rootlessness that being away from home, most friends, a school, full-time work or any other such structure is probably the real cause/ feeling. But there's no easy way to deal with that.
I graduated. That, ostensibly, is the biggest change with or in me. It occurred without any real sense of feeling or ceremony or preparedness, but was bookended by pleasant times with family and memories with friends where we did new things in the same old ways.
Summer was mostly rootless, though it began with lots of fun. Much TV and movies were watched, some time was spent with the closest friends on holiday. At first there was much cheeriness about time off and brain breaks and hope, and at some indiscernible point this shifted into loneliness and boredom and whatever this current feeling is.
Now it feels odd to believe that my time in college is done. There's a weird distance looking at students going about their normal lives, with me somehow feeling left behind, not having begin my 'real' job yet either.
As for F, that's a topic I'll begin dealing with in another post.
To be honest, a mix of reading and PMS and jazz and rain outside produced a jumbled maelstrom of emotions in me. I'm hoping that writing will (as usual) enable me to organize and sort and simplify them in the way that allows me to deal with them.
On the surface of it, since the last time I've written, a number of large life changes have happened. Obviously I feel entirely the same. Perhaps this is why in the last month or so, a weird sense of idsplacement and inertia has been lurking on the corners of my consciousness. I've spent many minutes staring at this screen trying to find a way to describe these feelings without overdramatizing them or even just trying to find the words and yet it continues to seem impossible. Not completely understanding the way I've been feeling or the whys and hows of it is probably a contributor to the problem.
Depression is a word that has occurred to me at times, and though I have once in a while felt the urge that nothing quite matters and 'whelming' anhedonia, I fail to match any of the real symptoms and thus do not deign to use it. The sense of rootlessness that being away from home, most friends, a school, full-time work or any other such structure is probably the real cause/ feeling. But there's no easy way to deal with that.
I graduated. That, ostensibly, is the biggest change with or in me. It occurred without any real sense of feeling or ceremony or preparedness, but was bookended by pleasant times with family and memories with friends where we did new things in the same old ways.
Summer was mostly rootless, though it began with lots of fun. Much TV and movies were watched, some time was spent with the closest friends on holiday. At first there was much cheeriness about time off and brain breaks and hope, and at some indiscernible point this shifted into loneliness and boredom and whatever this current feeling is.
Now it feels odd to believe that my time in college is done. There's a weird distance looking at students going about their normal lives, with me somehow feeling left behind, not having begin my 'real' job yet either.
As for F, that's a topic I'll begin dealing with in another post.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
