Saturday, January 28, 2006
Hottt Girls And Stupid Boys
I've officially had a full-out lesbian moment*. Last night I went to a fantastic talent show and saw a girl dance (belly and cuban salsa) and I was hit with a mix of two thoughts. It was either:
Goddamn, I want to BE her!
Goddamn, I want her!
She was hot. No, she was HOTTT. The capitals and three T's are totally well deserved. Doing her wouldn't be 'sex', it would be SEXXX. Yes, rated R and everything. I need to stop eating chocolate and get some professional training on how to be sexy. Wait, SEXXXY. She's officially the hotttest person I've seen in real life...she's like the Asian version of Britney Spears, but better. Much, much better. And that says a lot because yeah, I'll admit that I think Britney is way hot. The roomie and a friend (a girl too) all agreed - this dancer girl with the tight white pants who did the splits TWICE turned us all on more than we ever thought we'd be turned on by a female and we all wanted to BE her by the end of her segment. Man, her face, the expression...she looked like she was having sex the entire time she was on stage. If dancing turns you on that much, I need to sign up for lessons RIGHT. NOW. Apparently, she teaches salsa here on campus every Saturday. My plan is to find some time between campus tours, rehearsal and school and take some lessons on how to be HOTTT.
- It's gorgeous weather outside and I'm in a fantastic mood!
- However. I'm stuck on campus doing work and then I'm trapped in a room for hours rehearsing my play.
- Boys suck. They stink. They're stupid and awful and immature and jerks who deserve to have pointy rocks thrown at them. Except for Leah's Simon. He's nice.
- You have to learn how to say no. So many years later and I'm still learning. You're too nice. Mm. On second thought, don't change. AW. I think my heart just melted.
*I wanted to make that as non-offensive as possible, but I wasn't sure how else to say it.
Tuesday, January 24, 2006
Though I'm totally and desperately exhausted and lonely, I have some good news.
I'll keep it short and sweet because, well, I'm exhausted. Tomorrow my parents are coming to town for the afternoon and evening. This is a very rare happening and the last time they visited me as a pair was January of 2005 at around this exact same time. Let me stress this: Unless they are driving me back (ie: dropping me off without staying for any meals, etc.), my parents do.not. visit me. Unless it's a day like last January or tomorrow. Ooh, the curiosity, it burns doesn't it?
They're coming for the Faculty of Arts' annual award ceremony because their lovely daughter (yours truly (me)) has been honoured with an award and a scholarship, totalling almost enough to cover all of my tuition for the semester. Wahoo.
Ross and Doris Dixon Special Needs Volunteer Award
Full-time undergraduate or graduate students who contribute a minimum of 34 volunteer hours per academic year (2 terms) to the Accessible Learning Office. Established by Ross and Doris Dixon to recognize the important role that volunteers play in creating a positive environment for students with special needs; candidates will be judged on both the quantity and quality of their voluntary contribution.
Lorna R Marsden Scholarship Fund
Full-time undergraduate students in Year 3 in the Department of Sociology who have made a difference to the intellectual and/or social life of the department, the campus or the community. Established to honour the appointment of Dr Lorna Marsden as president of Laurier in 1992.
Friday, January 20, 2006
Basket case. Head case. Emotional wreck case.
Sometimes, just hopeless.
What happened to me being happy, fresh and looking forward to the semester, to my classes, to meeting new people, to my play, to everything? Damn, that felt like just yesterday. I thought that keeping busy was a going to be a good thing, to keep me on my toes and up and at 'em every morning. Shame it hasn't quite worked out that way.
I've been really, really tired and stressed out lately and somewhere along the way I lost my drive to turn the other cheek and keep doing things with a smile. I can't believe it's only been 3 weeks. I had an assignment that was due last Tuesday at 4pm that I have not started yet (talk about committing a major Academic Blunder). I just ordered books for my classes last weekend - some won't arrive until February 23rd. I can't get up in the mornings to go to work. These things are not hard, they are not difficult, they are not beyond my abilities whatsoever, but for some reason I just don't care enough.
So this is bad news because these things all need to be done, they have to be done or else I will kick myself for it later. But instead of actually doing anything, I'm sitting here whining to you about it. All I want to do is read and write and watch movies and have fun with the roomie and chat on MSN and post entries to my blog. I want to go out at night and chill or hang at a bar with some friends, not stay in and do work like I have for the past however many years. Who knows. Something inside doesn't feel...typical, or usual, or 'right', or whatever.
I had my first solid rehearsal for the Fringe Festival a week or so ago and as we sat down to plan out our rehearsal schedule until the show, all I could feel was this immense swelling...not of pride, not of joy, but of fear and resignation. I saw my whole life being filled up with meetings and tours and practices and sessions and rehearsals and work right before my eyes and I wasn't doing anything to stop it. I was the one doing it. It's like that scene in Titanic when Rose describes the misery that might swallow the rest of her life and how she wants out, how she's screaming at the top of her lungs but no one even looks up. Yeah. I feel like I'm being swallowed whole.
I feel like I want it. I do want it. I don't want it. I don't know what I want. I want to have this assignment finished but I haven't started it, I want this application done but I'm not working on it. I want to work, but I don't want to work so much, all the time. I want to quit everything, I want to leave. Right now. Never ever ever have I felt such nonchalance, such indifference to things that I thought mattered to me. Maybe it's because I haven't slept well or enough in a week. Maybe I'm malnutritioned. Maybe it's PMS. Maybe it's Third Year Syndrome. Maybe I've just had enough. Enough with this work, enough with the stress, enough with having to do too much and not knowing what for.
I know! I KNOW!! This is very uncharacteristic of me. I'm supposed to be cheery and spunky and happy-go-lucky and energetic and chipper and and and...ugh. Let's just all hold hands and hug and hope that it's a phase that will pass. Like a kidney stone. Yes, a kidney stone. Kidney stones.
Thursday, January 19, 2006
Boy, I Need A Man
Okay, it's official. I hate boys.
They like you, they don't like you, they flirt with you, they don't flirt with you. They cuddle and snuggle one week and the next - you got it - THEY DON'T. What's with the goddamn inconsistency? Can't anyone be freaking STABLE these days?
And yeah, I'm talking about Cutesy McGreeneyes because he's getting on my nerves, and you know what? He's not that damn cute anymore! Not when he's being a downright stupidhead flirty-not-flirty jerk! If you like me, then you like me, don't beat around the bush and get all clueless and immature on me because there's going to be a serious ass-kicking if you keep it up.
Why do I even bother trying? Why do I put up with this crap? GAAHH!!
From now on, I want a MAN.
Wednesday, January 18, 2006
Smooches for you, you, you and you.
Sunday, January 15, 2006
So I've spent the last little while (and by 'last little while' I really mean 'lots of hours-er...days') with Cutesy McGreeneyes* - hanging out at his place watching TV and polishing off seasons of Arrested Development. On Friday he carted my arse up to the mall and stuck with me for hours as I ran around campus doing a gazillion different errands. Then we went back to his place and he fed me spicy sausages with spicy mustard and garlic mayonnaise. Mm, boy food.
But I've been thinking, How much do I really like this boy? Okay, so we've spent a lot of time together recently and I do enjoy and look forward to seeing him. He's still cute and nice and funny and fun and still generally great, but I'm being more cautious. I guess that darn protective wall is starting to go back up again. I'm wondering, What if it's not him that I want, but rather what he reminds me of? Do I want a relationship with him, or a relationship with someone...someone that I love?
For the first few days of school, I felt a large amount of resolve and optimism (typically not that unusual for me). I had things to do the second I moved back to school and keeping busy really does wonders because it kept my mind off all the extra fringey stuff. Like boys and how to get over my emotional sterility. But now when we're watching TV and I'm on his couch and his legs are resting on my knees and we're arguing over watching Conan O'Brien or Jerry Maguire (and settle on The Simpsons), I'm thinking, This is so nice.
I used to hate sap with the fiery passion of a million burning suns - I didn't want to listen to songs about relationships, I didn't want to watch movies that had to do with love, I rolled my eyes at everything romantical and sweet and Aww! It all made me gag angrily and I was perfectly fine being as cynical and bitter as I was. I didn't mind being alone and in fact, I knew that it was a good thing for me. But I've been walking around in a daze for the last few days because I'm daydreaming about holding hands and hugging and kissing and being lovey-dovey again.
It takes just one person do all that. To remind me how nice it is to have someone there to study, shop, or watch movies with. How I missed having someone to cuddle with on the couch and snuggle with in bed at night. How unexplainably wonderful it is to wake up in the morning next to them even if they kept you up all night with their snoring. How your heart takes a breath when you look at his bare back as he's changing his shirt.
At the very least, even if Cutesy McGreeneyes isn't the right one to do all this for me, I'm not that bitter anymore. I think I'm back to my hopeful, yet saptastic, self.
* This nickname officially approved by none other than the lovely Moonshine herself.
Saturday, January 14, 2006
Me and my adventures of the 14th of january. OMG!!!
I got trashed tonight.. cuz i'm a wino.. and then went to a party.. like OMG! it was sooo hot (i heart paris hilton btw). In other news.. i got new boy boxers.. and argyle socks! I heart them both.. cuz i heart everything. ya.. i got nothing else.. love you all.. heart kiss XoOXOXOXO.. bye!!!
Shirls (the lovebug) <3<3<3
(Ed. note: This post courtesy of the lovely Matthew Walter-Connoy.)
Post Scriptum: I am not drunk. Yet.
Wednesday, January 11, 2006
Woe Is Me
For the last few days I've been wanting to write something about a new boy that I met, but I've re-realized that feelings are lame. Lame I say, LAME! They're a waste of time and they frustrate the heck out of me.
But here's the thing - he's cute and nice, funny and fun to be around and he's, oh I don't know, GREAT. I met him once in the fall - October methinks - and we instantly clicked over music and the recent Yellowcard concert we had both attended. I liked his style, the cut of his jib if you will. Whatever a jib is. And then I never hung out with them again and he and the roomie became awesomely close friends. I never saw him except for a couple times when he came to pick her up or drop her off or whatever. I did realize what a wonderfully good friend he was (and still is) though. A week ago, I met him again over cheap tacos and since then I haven't been able to stop thinking about him.
Oh how cute, you're thinking. No, no, no! This is awful! This is bad bad bad news people. I can't concentrate on my work, in my classes, when I'm watching movies, when I'm doing anything! I've seen him five days out of the last seven and I don't want to stop seeing him. When I found out his cat died, I asked him what his favourite colour and saying were and then I made him a card that included his favourite colour and saying. I stopped by his place today just to say hi. I try to flirt (a little). When I talk to him I'm (slightly) funny and caring and understanding of the junk he's going through with his ex-girlfriend so that I'm being the Supercool Supportive Friend. When we actually make eye contact I hold it for as long as possible before he looks away because his eyes are just that green.
I want to punch myself.
You see, I don't like it when I like people because I get obsessed and I turn into this giddy-nervous-excited-jealous-anxious thirteen year old child. Like right now for example. WHY do I even like him? There's no concrete reasons and I really only met him a week ago for goodness' sake! I don't want to neglect important things like sleep so that I can stay up with him, I don't want to think about touching him all the time (not in that way, but in the way where I can hold his hand and stroke his arm and put our faces together and run my hands down his back), I don't want to wonder what it's like to kiss him or how nice it would be to rest my head on his tummy or have his rest on mine. But I do anyway.
What are the chances even? Slim, nil, good? What are the signs? Have there been any signs? Do I believe in signs? Is he this way with all other girls? Am I being 'too much'? Should I play it cool or hard to get? What if he thinks I'm not interested, but I really am? What does it mean when he does that? What if he doesn't sit beside me? What if he greets me nonchalantly? What does it all mean? What what WHAAAT!
Achem. But I digress.
So. I like him. And sometimes, I wish I didn't because it really is too premature to tell and really, this is driving me crazy. And no, I'm not mature enough to just come out and tell him - I need more time to marinate in this to make sure it's worth jeopardizing a friendship for. The roomie tells me that I should try superhard to stop thinking about him while I still can, before it's too late. Problem: I think it might already be too late.
Saturday, January 07, 2006
Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.
Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, “Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?”
Actually, who are you not to be?
Your playing small doesn't serve the world. There's nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. You are born to make manifest the glory that is within you. It's not just in some of us, it's in everyone.
And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we're liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.
I just read your blog and wanted to let you know that
a) at no point in time did hit myself in the head
b) I didn't stop reading because it was depressing
c) I never felt your writings to be anything more than pure, unexaggerated human experience.
We all go through sucky stuff, and the fact that you can sit and write about it in a honest and frank manner makes me love reading it. I love that you're a real person with real woes and you don't just write about stupid happy fluff because that is what people might like reading. I can relate to your feelings as well as your perspective and THAT is why you are an amazing person who is going to do AMAZING things in life. So, if anyone tries to say otherwise, then you just direct them to me. I'll be happy to inform them of their mistake, (while holding a very big baseball bat.)
You are great.
It's been too long Shirl - I miss you a whole lot.
YOU ARE FAB!!!!
You need to publish your blog - I totally love it.
I just wanted to drop you a line and say that I really enjoyed reading your blog. It's beautifly written with a perspective that everyone shares, yet rarely express. Well done.
i think you're absolutely fantastic and probably the most intelligent
woman i know - if there's anything i can ever do for you -- pick you
up some bright peppers or anything at all -- please don't hesitate to
ask. and in the event you forget how fabulous you are...give me a call
and i'll remind you.
Remember when I was bragging about my gingerbread people making skills? And there was this secret wrapped parcel that I brought into work before the holidays?
Yeah, so this was underneath:
Made entirely by yours truly! Aren't I Gingerbread Genious? Yes? Yes! Yes.
This mother of a house took me about 4 hours to complete and I was concentrating so hard that I gave myself a pretty bad headache by the end of the night. Worth it? Yes yes yes.
Thursday, January 05, 2006
Pickles + peanut butter = yummy dinner.
Music + me = orgasmic happiness.
Wednesday, January 04, 2006
I just wanted to say that last night at 9pm as I was walking home from class (during which we did nothing but watch My Big Fat Greek Wedding), I felt immensely wonderful. I was listening to Wolf Parade, a new band Alex introduced me to, I was marvelling at the mild weather I was swinging my arms I smiled widely at the cars that let me cross the road I was looking forward to going home to my roomie I was in a good mood I was...happy.
Sunday, January 01, 2006
For the past few days I've been a good girl. I've hung out with the fam and my friends, I went skiing for the first time in eight years and had a blast, filmed a short movie for my dear Wesley, had a girls' night and got another facial. I've tried hard to not be mopey and have a good time and successfully, I have. So. I'm going to allow myself this here one last bitter post where I'm going to be as honest as all heck with what's left of my anger, hate and love for this man. And after this, no more.
The last year and a quarter of my life have been, oh how you say, bad. Well, that's unfair to all of 2005 because it wasn't all bad all the time (the last quarter of 2004 was majorly suckass and there's no contesting that). In January I won an award and a scholarship and got my learn on enough to pull my GPA back up high where I like it. In February I was on stage again and won the Fringe Oscar for Best Supporting Actress. In March I got a fantastic new job and went to Ottawa and Quebec City. In April I went back on stage for the Vagina Monologues and got offered a part in a movie. May: Worked in Ottawa and Quebec City, got a part in a play. June: Saw the Pompeii exhibit, met up with Greg and hung around Ottawa and QC some more. July: I had the best job I've had in a while, went to Cali and met a great boy named Adam. August: I picked up the hobby of jumping out of planes, re-fell in love with Toronto, and saw the Backstreet Boys in concert. In September I...hrm. October was- ...November. Huh. December?
Okay, so the last four months of 2005 have been particularly not so hot and I've apparently shown that I'm really good at chronicling the depressive crap that's been going on in my life in a somewhat lighthearted fashion. Somewhat. I'm hoping it's all just a phase that will pass, much like a kidney stone. And the metaphor is so very complete because passing one of those suckers is painful and oh goodness, has the majority of this last year and a bit been damn painful or what. For what will hopefully be the last time, here's the background:
So seven years ago I met a guy on a bus and somehow ended up falling in love with him. After a number of years and other guys, I realized that I wanted to marry him, have his children, grow old with him and die in each others' arms. We finally get together, but then I somehow ended up cheating on him and not only did I hide it from him, I also lied about it. And man, did it ever throw things into a tizzy when he found out by reading through my MSN conversation history. And sure, so I thought that if I nevereverEVER did it again and stayed with him then he'd see that I chose him and us and I wanted the relationship to work and really, it was nothing but a fuck up. Apparently he didn't see things the same way at all. We went through a lot of shit last fall/winter: numerous breakups and getbacktogethers for numerous reasons, an engagement that lasted a record eleven days, a suicide attempt, counselling, hatred, jealousy problems and a bunch of other depressing crap that you can piece together via the archives because I really don't want to go through all of it again, not even textually. Our final breakup came in late January of 05 and we stopped talking cold turkey mid-February. Going to the same school and living down the street from him was (and is still) not cool. I looked forward to the summer, only to find him in Orange County at the same conference as I and in September we ended up in the same (year long) class. So it turns out that life doesn't always work the way you want it to. Who knew.
In an angry email a friend of his wrote to me last winter, she told me to get over it; we broke up and he couldn't trust me. Big deal, suck it up, get over it. It's been about a year and our interactions involve pretending like the other person isn't there. Yeah, it seems like it makes lots of sense to get over it, all things considered. So where's the problem? Here and here, wherever my soul lies. A year later and though I'm not an emotional wreck like I was last winter, really deep down I'm still just a wee bit depressed over it. I deified him to the point where he was all good and I was all bad. At the height of my emotional and mental breakage, I started to pray and before anything else, I prayed for his soul to be taken care of first. My faith rested on our relationship and when that fell apart, I wasn't quite sure what else there was to believe in. I guess after trusting in someone and something for so long, it kind of sticks around in your being. He and us gave me a real reason to believe in fate. But, my strange faith aside, I honestly felt quite fine during the summer and going into the school year; I'm certain that having him in my class this fall has made things infinitely worse.
And it's not like I didn't try to get over it. I tried not to think about it as much as I could. I remember sitting on a bus during late spring and saying NO in my head whenever a memory of him popped into my head. Just like that and I moved onto another stream of thought, it was so easy. I stopped reading his blog nearly cold turkey and kept it up for a long time. I fell off the wagon a couple of times, but I got back on and I've stayed on for a hella long time. To tell you the childish truth, if you've ever mentioned his name on your blog, I mostly likely skipped reading the rest of the post and stayed away for a while. I've actually stopped reading a few blogs all together because they mentioned him too much. Seriously? In the angry email from his friend last winter, she told me that reading my blog made her want to bang her head against the wall every time. I just wrinkled my brow and wondered, Why don't you just stop reading it? Reading about him makes me want to rip my own heart out in an attempt to not feel anything, so naturally, I'm going to stay away from things that make me feel that way.
And you know, when I found out that we were going to be in the same class, I decided to take a pretty big step. It had got to the point where I thought that enough time had passed and that we were ready to be adults about the whole situation. So I called him to talk about his mum and to say, I'm going to make an effort to be your friend. I want to try to make things better. I don't want to pretend like we don't exist to each other anymore. After all, I missed him. Not just as a loving boyfriend, but simply as a friend, as a person I could talk to and share with. He said No. And in response, I could do nothing but file away the email, close my eyes and exhale a deep, resigned sigh. My friend Nikhil once wrote to me: try not to completely throw away what I once knew to be a very nice friendship. I'm sorry my dear Nikhil, I tried, but I'm afraid that the friendship has already been thrown away.
He managed to fundraise his way to Antarctica this winter and wow, was that a sobering moment when I found out (by reading a post from a friend's blog). Oh sure I was sad because in high school that was our thing, maybe he would even say the thing that brought us closer together, and now he's totally doing it alone. I'm feeling a combination of happiness for him because he's wanted it for six years and a muted bitterness because though it would have been nice to be told and to receive a postcard like every other single person he knows, I wasn't and I won't. And no, I'm not going to ask for one because I got the hint pretty clearly when he returned the cheque that I wrote to him to help with the fundraising. All I wanted to do was freaking help goddammit. But apparently my involvement in the project hindered his peace of mind and if trying to help by donating money did that, then I'm not going to be stupidly selfish and ask for a stupid postcard.
Really, why even bother trying to be his friend when rejection is coming from every angle? He doesn't want my donation, my good intentions and especially not my friendship. So I think about him still. So I still want to share my highs and lows. So I think about him every time I celebrate something. So I miss his family. So I still get teary when I think about not being there to see his little sister and cousins grow up. So I miss him. So what. Smack smack smack it into your head dear girl. He doesn't want you around.
And you know what? I'm sick and tired of feeling nervous around people we both know, I'm sick of crying I'm tired of feeling hollow, I'm sick and tired of taking the blame. I'm sick and tired of being seen as the person who fucked up and ruined everything because, though I will never deny fucking up way beyond what I understood to be hugely and immensely, I know didn't ruin everything on my own. It takes two to make a relationship and it takes two to break one. I wanted to make things work, I wanted to talk about it, I wanted counselling for the both of us. Surprise, sur-freaking-prise, I wanted to be with him. I was open with what I felt in terms of my jealousy and I wanted compromise. By the end of the relationship, instead of getting compromise, I felt that I was being compromised. I felt I was a bad person who didn't have any morals. I felt horribly and unfairly misunderstood. I thought I was stupid for being hurt when my boyfriend had dinner three nights a week with the same girl. When I think about it, he invaded my privacy and breached the same principles of trust by reading my MSN history, my journals, email and unposted blog entries without asking me and yes, there was lying from his end too. Really, I don't think we're all that different. Except that I somehow, forgave him for everything he did and returned my trust to him again and again. Why? Stupid answer.
The good thing about writing sap-crap posts about him over and over is that I've made a bunch of new net friends because they can hear themselves in what I'm saying - I'm glad about that. Sometimes, all anyone needs is to know that they're not alone in what they're feeling. To the lot of you I say, You're still not alone and never will be. Maybe you won't be able to read about those feelings here anymore, but I still and will always understand. I'm just taking another step to help me in the healing process because it's been dragged on for much too long. This hardly means that I'll stop writing about sappy stuff like boys, love and how I still want a relationship; and yes, I admit to thinking that I'll vaguely mention him in a post every now and then simply because he was a part of my life for so long. What I'm saying is that I will stop devoting whole posts to him, even whole paragraphs. It's not healthy and it's not helping. It's almost a shame because I've often felt that the sap-crap I write about him is some of my best stuff.
Do what you need to do. He used to say that a lot and now people have been saying it to me. They're right. I need to get a move on because being stuck in this goddamn slump is not getting me anywhere other than into a chair in a counsellor's office. I can tell you that it's still going to suck monkey balls to see him twice a week in class and if it wasn't a course I had been looking forward to taking for a year and a half, I would have dropped it. So the mopey feelings might not go away for a bit longer, but I'm not going to prolong their stay by writing about it all the time. I'm going back to where I was a while ago, when I would actively say NO to thoughts about him and move my mind to other things.
I'm leaving 2005 with all this shit in the past, where it belongs. (I really wish I had been able to finish this post in time so that I could have posted it while 2005 was still around. Don't even start with me on the symbolism of that one. 2006 is still full of newness and fresh opportunities for a sap-free life.) I'm sick and tired of carrying it around with me everyday because it makes me so weary and really, I don't want to be depressed and miserable over an ex-boyfriend who pretends like he doesn't even know me. I shouldn't need to have a good cry every now and then, and it's not like this pity party is getting me anywhere. I'm being super unattractive when I mope and cry and I'm totally scaring off other people because they now see me as an emotional headcase. Seriously, I think I need to smack it into my brain that continually saying that I'm still sorrysorrySORRY and that I still love him isn't going to bring him back to me. At this point, I don't know if anything ever will. I don't even know if I want him back right now.
Okay, so there we go. I'm done talking about this and you know all you need to know. If you feel that I'm telling this all wrong and want to berate me for it, to you I say this: I will only ever tell one half of the story because I only ever have one half to tell - My Half. This is what I knowthinkandfeel, it's not about what anyone else knowsthinksorfeels, this here is my half.
I don't want to end this entirely melodramatic and bitter because although this post is evidence to the contrary, that's not the kind of person I am. If you read any of these posts written after we split, you'll see that I've really got a soft spot for him on the inside (the spot that, when triggered, makes me cry for days). Part of me is sad and part of me is amazed at how quickly and precisely he managed to cut me out of his life. I never wanted and still don't want to do that to him because despite all the awful things he did to me and how me made me feel, I still like him. Regardless, I'm pretty sure he doesn't feel the same way about me so I need to stop wondering if he'll ever want to be my friend ever again. As it stands, that seems unlikely. Still, I want it to be known and accepted that J will forever be a very important part of my past, not just because he was around for so long, but because who I am today has been largely influenced by him. I admired and respected him long before I fell in love with him. And no matter how I try, or how little he feels those things for me, I don't think I'll ever stop admiring or respecting him. And truthfully, at this point, I wonder whether my love for him will ever really fade away.
In my head, in my heart, in my soul, pieces of who you were will always remain. I lost you five different ways last winter: as a boyfriend, as a fiance, as a person who wanted to live, as a friend and finally, as someone that I knew - I've hung on tightly to whatever bits I have left. Perhaps too tightly. It's a shame that I don't know who you are anymore, but like they say, it's probably for the best. A year ago, a million tears ago, we broke each others' hearts...my capacity to love amazes me, my capacity to hurt scares me. I loved you in a million ways and now I miss you in a million more. I've written so much here already and yet I feel like there is still so much more left to say, but I have no way of saying it.
It's all the same anyway - I love(d) you. I miss you. Remember us as we were.
To 2005, to Jason, Goodbye.