Tag Archives: sad

dramatic sigh.

22 Sep

I keep making this particular gesture: I place a fist on the left side of my chest, clench it, and then have it fly away, the fingers waggling as they trail behind the palm.

It represents the way you make me feel.

I forgot how in love with you I am, was, and always will be, even though you’ll never see me as anything more than some shy kid who sung your praises far too often on summer nights some odd years ago. I realize there are a thousand and one reasons why I will never be with you, and I suppose in the grand scheme of things it’s for the best, but still my heart dreams.

This is dumb, dumb, dumb.

feel free to skip this entry.

30 Jul

The title of this entry says it all. What you’re about to read is a rant of me whining and being sad and just, ugh, do yourselves a favor and skip this pathetic entry.

.
. .
. . .
. . . . .
. . .
. .
.

I don’t remember the last time I felt this utterly alone. I’ve written many a time about feeling alone or “oh, pity me, I’m shrouded in eternal loneliness!” but this is different. In the past it always circulated around me being angst-felt over boys, but this time… This time I’m talking about sheer loneliness; the feeling that your existence in this world is goes completely unnoticed by just about everyone.

Since returning to Ashland I’ve had approximately four get togethers with friends (five if you count the time Ryan and I spent a day clearing out the remains of our old house). That’s been it. Previous summers have spoiled me, because there was always something going on and someplace to go, so the few days of summer where I did get time to myself it felt like such a treat. But now? Now I barely leave my house, let alone my room. I feel like I’ve turned into this recluse. Sure, I leave to go to work, to go out running, to run errands, and to go write at a coffee shop once a week, but that is about the extent of it. I forget how essential the need for human contact is for me. I have my friends from Tough Pigs, who I love dearly, but talking to a computer screen is not the same as going out and grabbing a drink with a friend. I know I should get off my butt and ask people to do things, but I did earlier this summer and they never got back to me, which is just fodder for the lowliness that is my self esteem. It keeps taunting me. It wont stop whispering in my ear.

“They don’t want to be around you.”

“Nobody does.”

“You’re going to be alone forever.”

The fact of the matter is, I’m depressed. I am clearly in a definite state of depression right now. It’s been a while since I’ve been this depressed. I had a couple funks throughout the last school year, but none of them really lasted that long. And I know this will pass, as it always does, but I’m also in the phase where it feels like this feeling is going to last for forever.

I miss seeing people. I miss Nick. I miss having a roommate that looked forward to interacting with me on a day-to-day basis. I miss having a group of friends to drink with on the weekends. I miss having someone to crush on. I miss daily conversations that weren’t text based. I miss having fun.

This will break, I know it will, and I’ll go back to my chipper, happy self. I just don’t know when.

I think I’m going to force myself to go out on a walk later today. Clear out my mind. Get some fresh air. Something along those lines.

need an out.

22 Jul

Fly me to New York. Whisk me away to LA. Let’s rendezvous in Tuscany or Germany. A detour in Disney – either land or world – will do nicely. Let’s get swept up amongst the waves of Cannon Beach. Lose me in London. Take my hand, take my head, take my heart.

Just take me away from this place.

as the winter winds litter london with lonely hearts.

20 Jun

It’s hard to believe for five months straight I defined you as my reason for getting up in the morning. The reason I was at a computer 24/7; my sole reason to smile every day. It’s not that you aren’t that any longer. You still are, sort of. Not as much though. We just drifted, didn’t we? And maybe I opened my eyes and came to the realization that I know nothing about you. Nothing of major importance, at least. Knowing your favorite television programs and how we both dislike school and both adore Muppets is one thing, but when one has such powerful emotions for another I feel like they should probably know a little bit more about the other’s personal life. And maybe one day you’ll open up to me, and I to you. Maybe we’ll become close again, and then maybe one day our paths will finally cross and we’ll finally have that firework moment, but for now this is probably for the best. You’re still the boy who made me blush, though my heart no longer jumps quite as high when we talk. What a pity.

I never know what to do when I find myself crush-less. I feel awkward. Too much empty space in my mind; too much free time and not enough to think about. How am I supposed to fill the emptiness without a boy to fantasize on? Without a crush, my mind wonders towards poverty, famine, over population, war, intolerance, consumerism, and I become sad and scared. I do not like fearing a world that I crave to be in. My mind longs for the idleness and fluff of a crush to occupy the space. Is that a bad thing? That I’d rather pine after a boy who I have no chance of being with instead of focusing on real world issues? Maybe, but it’s the only way I find that I can truly cope in this life.

I know we live in a day and age where women are strong and empowered. I’m supposed to enjoy being single. I’m not supposed to need a man.

“I am woman
I am strong
I am confident
I am independent
I am omnipresent
I am self reliant.”

But Ilike having crushes. It’s what Iknow. I am always the girl with a crush. When I have no crush to hold onto it’s like I lose a bit of myself. There is almost always someone to offer my heart up to, and when there isn’t I’m left holding my swollen heart in the palm of my bitter hands, watching on as the blood pulses betwixt my fingers, and wondering what I should do with it.

So I’ll tuck my heart back inside the left pocket of my breast and move on. I suppose it’s for the best, but I already said that, didn’t I?

I do not need a man. I know this. I’ve always known this. I get along just fine on my own. I will continue to persevere, this much I know. I do not need a man. I do not need a man. I do not need a man.

But maybe I’d really like one anyway.

regret.

14 Jun

I can’t save every broken heart, every dashed dream, every torn sob that crosses my path.

But Jesus, sometimes I wish I could.

somebody that I used to know.

13 Jun

I saw you today
and suddenly remembered the feel of your arms.

Sometimes I miss the shuffles.

the four year roommate.

8 Jun

Walking through the unfamiliar terrain
that I will soon call home
drives a knife of fear into my feeble heart.
I have never been without you,
and by never I mean since we first
arrived in this tiny land.
A land of ash.
A land of Bards and fairy wings.
A land of delicious possibilities.

How am I supposed to inhabit this new place
without your curious sense of humor?
How am I supposed to survive
without the chore of nagging you
to buy more milk?
How am I supposed to cope
without my panda?

We’ve grown distant,
what with your life taken over by the Boy
and progress in your craft of building tables and stairs,
and my life taken over by the sheer lack of boys
and abundance of homework and life and stress and whatnot,
but that changes nothing.

I still count you as one of the greats.

You made me strong.
You held my hand as we departed,
merely children,
some odd years ago,
and now you, my source of strength, is
flying away to find a new home.
A bigger and brighter home.
A home you truly deserve.

I wish you the most extravagant happiness
that anyone could ever possibly gain,
because even though I’ll miss you
with all of my heart’s strength,
that is all I want for you.

To be happy.
To be healthy.

To flourish.

To live.

smitten like a kitten :: crushin like a russian

13 May

Sometimes a crush can fill you with such pure satisfaction and glee, almost like you’re floating amidst the bluest parts of the sky that no one’s ever seen; other times a crush can fill you with so much dread and frustration and loss of self-worth that it weighs you down and sends you plummeting back towards the lifeless, flatness that is the earth.

“People say friends don’t destroy one another; what do they know about friends?”

28 Apr

Last week a friend expressed to me how I don’t really seem to open up around her. This is something I’ve noticed about myself quite a lot in the last couple years. Compared to how I was in high school, and middle school even, I never really seem to open up and express my inner workings with my friends. This has baffled me for a while as to why this is the case when it comes to me, but more recently, after putting a lot of thought into the problem, I think I’ve come up with the root of why I’ve been withdrawing so much of my emotion over the years and only being able to truly express my feelings through the internet/poetry.

It’s my friends.

No, okay, let me restate that. It’s not all of my friends, and I don’t want to go pointing any fingers. It’s just… I’ve noticed, lately, that most of the people I claim to be closest with are the ones I don’t open up to, and I know the reasons why. Today I had lunch with a friend who always goes on and on about things going on in her, but when I opened up about one thing that I’ve been holding onto she changed the subject back to herself within a minute. I have another friend who, quite literally, never asks me how my day is going, even though I always ask her about her day. One of my closest friends throughout my college life, whenever I try to engage her in talk, constantly changes the subject and acts like she doesn’t care. Another friend doesn’t seem interested in talking with me unless she’s in desperate need to talk to someone. And the list goes on.

Now, I love all these people and I’m glad I have them in my life, but I’m so confused. Why does it seem that I’m the only good listener that I know? How come my friends are allowed to continuously talk about themselves, but never inquire about me? Is that selfish to ask? Is it wrong to want someone to ask me how my day is going or about developments in my life? And when I do decide to share, why does everyone suddenly act as if they don’t care?

There’s a guy I like, who I’ve alluded to in the past on my wordpress, and the whole situation is complicated and I haven’t told many people about him. I’ve opened up three times to three of my closest friends. I went in hoping for advice, and all of them shut the conversation down right away. It had nothing to do with the guy or the goings on between us; they just changed the subject.

I think this is a big factor into why I have such a hard time opening up nowadays. I feel like people don’t care when I do. I find myself opening up to people to be this big, huge gesture, but whenever I do the person on the receiving end acts as if they couldn’t care less. And this hurts. This hurts a goddamn lot, and it’s why I’ve turned to writing up blog entries on my tumblr and wordpress, because there’s a much more likely chance of reaching out to someone who cares on there then anyone I talk to in person.

And obviously this it not directed at all of my friends. I can think of a good number of people who do give a shit about what I have to say, and I honestly don’t know why I don’t’ reach out to them more often. And maybe this is a sign that I should start sticking up for myself more often. Maybe make it more known to friends that it is important that one sided relationships don’t exist.

I just feel tired of being treated like a waste basket, with people constantly dumping their problems and worries on me. I would like to have human connections, repeatedly and as often as possible with everyone I know.

Is that too much to ask for?

A Daughter Without a Mother is like a Bird Who Lost Its Tail Feathers…

29 Jan

Death is a difficult subject to tackle. It’s one that everybody tries to write about and, more often than not, one that people usually fail to really captivate. God only knows I’ve written about death a number of times, and I still don’t think I’m well equipped enough to speak on it.

But on some levels, maybe I am. Death was introduced in my life when I was five years old when my favorite uncle died of lung cancer, and then again when a girl named Audrey died when I was in the fourth grade. I don’t remember much of them. I remember Uncle Dave had a thick mustache and thick glasses, and I remember Audrey was one year younger than me and was in the same Girl Scout troupe as I was, but besides that I really can’t remember them. I can’t remember why he was my favorite uncle and I can’t remember if Audrey and I were ever friends or at least pleasant acquaintances. Time and age has stolen all my fond memories of the two of them.

Then when I was thirteen my mother died of an aneurysm. It was sudden and quick and nobody saw it coming. It happened at six in the morning and by 12:15pm she was gone. That was over eight years ago, but to this day it still hurts. It’s always going to hurt, I realize, even when I’m eighty years old and can no longer remember the sound of her voice – which is already hard enough to remember as it is.

The reason I bring up death, namely the death of my mother, today is because of two things that have happened in the last twelve hours: I watched O Brother Where Art Thou and I watched the episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer entitled “The Body”.

O Brother Where Art Thou may baffle some to a certain extent, so I will explain. My mother showed me O Brother when I was just a kid, about ten or eleven, probably deemed “too young” for the movie, but for some reason she allowed it. It was one of the first times I was ever invited to watch a “grown up movie” with my parents. She instructed me never to say any of the “bad words” that I’d hear, she had to explain to me why a bunch of men in white robes wanted to kill an innocent black man and she had to explain the word “nigger”, and she made me close my eyes when the Cyclops squished the toad. That being said, it quickly became one of our favorite movies to watch together and we watched it several times before her passing. It’s not a movie that always makes me think of her though; not really. I watch it on a somewhat regular basis (at least once a year?) and while she may be floating in the back of my mind as I do, there are definitely other movies that are more emotionally tied into memories of her.

However, last night as I was rewatching it and shoveling Ben & Jerry’s Strawberry Cheesecake ice cream into my “I-don’t-give-a-fuck-about-this-diet-anymore” mouth, I was struck with a sudden odd memory. When I was eleven, I had a major crush on Delmar in that movie. Y’know, Delmar? The short, little guy played by Tim Blake Nelson? Really simple-minded, the comic relief of the main trio, and says things like “Oh George, not the livestock” and “We thought you was a toad”. Yeah, him. I had totally forgotten this over the years and was highly amused upon remembering. I wanted to share it with someone immediately and, for some reason, the first person who came to mind was my mother. I fantasized how amazing it would be to have that one, simple conversation with her. It might seem strange to others, but the image of me calling up my mom and saying to her, “Hey, so, I totally just remembered when I was a kid I had this weird crush on Delmar from O Brother! Isn’t that ridiculous?” and then her saying something funny in response, as she always did, is the thing I want most right about now. I know it’s an odd thing to fantasize about, but geez, what I’d give for that moment.

The Buffy episode is a bit easier to understand why it made me think on my mom. (SPOILERS ahead for Buffy, just so we’re clear)

I have never seen a TV episode portray the loss of a loved one, especially a mother, so brutally honest. Whedon does such a great, poignant job when it comes to matters that are as serious as this, and he really did the death of Joyce justice… but that doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt any less to watch. I got to work this morning and told myself, “Okay, just one episode of Buffy and then I’ll get straight to the homework”… well, that one episode ended with Buffy finding her mom dead on the couch and I instantly knew I had to watch the next one. And I did. And I cried. A lot. And I was utterly thankful that no one came into the office during that time, because if they had they would have found me red-faced, tears streaming down my cheeks, and choking back sobs of empathy. The part that got me the hardest was finding out the character had been taken by an aneurysm and then realizing that the character of Dawn is very close to the age I was at when I lost my mother to an aneurysm. It’s so rough at that age. And Buffy’s reaction and shock to the situation was unbearable, and seeing how all of her friends took the news… ugh. Heart rendering. Also, I thought his line was extremely accurate:

Buffy: Was it sudden?
Tara: What?
Buffy: Your mother.
Tara: No. And yes. It’s always sudden.

It’s always sudden when we lose a person; whether it happens in the blink of an eye or it’s a gradual, slow process that you think you’re prepared for. You’re never truly prepared. Not really. It’s always going to hurt like a bitch to say good-bye to someone you love with your whole heart.

I’m sure this is not the last time I’m going to write about death, and it’s certainly not the last time I’ll reference my mother. There’s still so much I wish I could say to her, and I feel like writing it down is the only way I’ll ever find that sense of closure that I’ve been looking for ever since I was thirteen.

A daughter without a mother is like a bird who lost its tail feathers…it’s still possible for it to fly, it’s just a much greater challenge.