“Set me Free. Leave me be. I don’t wanna fall another moment into your Gravity.”
I swear, if my life were a musical, these days, that would be the title song I’d be singing over and over and over again.
I can’t seem to escape this song almost as much as I can’t seem to escape this person.
In too many of my thoughts, dreams, nightmares…
“You hold me without touch. You keep me without chains. I never wanted anything so much, than to drown in your love, and not feel your rain.”
I swear, if my life were a musical, these days, that would be the title song I’d be singing over and over and over again.
I can’t seem to escape this song almost as much as I can’t seem to escape this person.
In too many of my thoughts, dreams, nightmares…
“You hold me without touch. You keep me without chains. I never wanted anything so much, than to drown in your love, and not feel your rain.”
I feel like the kid in the group who got on the roller
coaster because it looked cool, and like she’d have fun with it, only to discover
that it had so many twist and turns, ups and downs, that she began to feel
violently ill. She then throws up
on her closest friend sitting next to her, and begins a series of long, drawn
out wails and cries that can be heard from innocent bystanders and onlookers
from below.
All she wants is to desperately get off the damn ride already – desperate for it!
(Perhaps even, at times, dismantle it piece by piece with her bare hands.)
Now, let me break down this illustration for you.
In case you haven’t already figured it out, the ‘rollercoaster’ is a particular person. The person that I need to forget yet can’t seem to stop myself from forgetting. Kind of like that old saying about men, I suppose, ‘can’t live with them, can’t live without them.’ How infuriatingly unfair is that?
Moving onto the next bit, ‘feeling violently ill on my closest friend’. Well, once you get me started on anything that I’m really, very passionate about, I tend to talk. A lot. Sometimes I hear myself in my head and just think how annoying I sound, and that I should shut up, but I don’t. It’s troublesome. And also, a contrast to my last entry, I know. I’m fully aware that I can be a walking contradiction at times. This also, among others, is a disease.
Regardless, with my tendency to ramble on about various things to my close friends, I give my closest friend such a headache sometimes with my rollercoaster like emotions with that particular individual. (You know who you are, I’m sorry for word vomiting on you. However, I promise you, though it may not be for you, for me, it’s essential to my sanity.)
The ‘innocent bystanders and onlookers’, though not a lot – thankfully – are the ones who were once ‘innocent’ until having heard my ‘wails and cries’, thus are ones who have either heard my side of this tangled, confusing story, or ones who have simply took note of it and come to their own conclusion.
Now all I want to do is get over this person already!
It’s been years and I’m just simply tired of it. Honestly, not until today did I come to a conclusion for myself.
It shouldn’t be this messy. It shouldn’t be this tiring. It shouldn’t be this difficult. I shouldn’t have to feel this way. There shouldn’t be this many tears.
Don’t get me wrong, I fully realize that relationships are not easy, nor a stroll in the park. However, I’m not even in one and I feel this badly already. Seriously, what would that tell you about it all? … Yeah, exactly. And I finally agree.
Now here’s what I was thinking about tonight – the conclusion I came to about myself. I asked myself tonight, have I outgrown my friends? Or just what my friends do? Or maybe I’m just in a mood, I don’t know. But I do know that the conclusion I did come to was that I must be growing up. Finally.
Let me give you some examples.
Last weekend, I went somewhere with a close friend of mine, and her two adorkable (we’re making it a word now, shut it!) daughters. We then met up with some other good friends and their daughters. It was messy, it was hectic at times, but mostly it was how it always is with them – terribly fun. I look around at them all and envy each and every one.
You see, ever since I was a little girl playing with my Barbie’s and tea sets, I knew what I wanted to be when I grew up. A mom. No other career was even thinkable for me, I just knew with absolute certainty that I wanted to be married and have kids. Part of this was my upbringing of course. My mother was always like that as well, she always said she wanted twelve kids when she grew up. She got me, and my two brothers. That was apparently enough for her, after all. Don’t blame her.
I don’t really want twelve kids or anything, but now at least you know where I might have gotten the influence.
But when I really knew I wanted to be a mom, and not just a ‘playing house mom’, was when I was old enough to finally babysit and take care of a little one.
I started out helping to feed the baby, change the diapers even, and I found myself never really minding doing any of it. I actually enjoyed it all immensely. Yep, definitely something wrong with me…
I babysat for that close friend of mine, mentioned above, for a while. Watched her oldest grow from birth, to the hilarious, almost six-year-old, little lady she is now – and then the next one! I loved doing it. It was honestly the best job I’ll ever have. So that’s when I knew, for absolute sure, that I wanted to be a mom – badly.
All she wants is to desperately get off the damn ride already – desperate for it!
(Perhaps even, at times, dismantle it piece by piece with her bare hands.)
Now, let me break down this illustration for you.
In case you haven’t already figured it out, the ‘rollercoaster’ is a particular person. The person that I need to forget yet can’t seem to stop myself from forgetting. Kind of like that old saying about men, I suppose, ‘can’t live with them, can’t live without them.’ How infuriatingly unfair is that?
Moving onto the next bit, ‘feeling violently ill on my closest friend’. Well, once you get me started on anything that I’m really, very passionate about, I tend to talk. A lot. Sometimes I hear myself in my head and just think how annoying I sound, and that I should shut up, but I don’t. It’s troublesome. And also, a contrast to my last entry, I know. I’m fully aware that I can be a walking contradiction at times. This also, among others, is a disease.
Regardless, with my tendency to ramble on about various things to my close friends, I give my closest friend such a headache sometimes with my rollercoaster like emotions with that particular individual. (You know who you are, I’m sorry for word vomiting on you. However, I promise you, though it may not be for you, for me, it’s essential to my sanity.)
The ‘innocent bystanders and onlookers’, though not a lot – thankfully – are the ones who were once ‘innocent’ until having heard my ‘wails and cries’, thus are ones who have either heard my side of this tangled, confusing story, or ones who have simply took note of it and come to their own conclusion.
Now all I want to do is get over this person already!
It’s been years and I’m just simply tired of it. Honestly, not until today did I come to a conclusion for myself.
It shouldn’t be this messy. It shouldn’t be this tiring. It shouldn’t be this difficult. I shouldn’t have to feel this way. There shouldn’t be this many tears.
Don’t get me wrong, I fully realize that relationships are not easy, nor a stroll in the park. However, I’m not even in one and I feel this badly already. Seriously, what would that tell you about it all? … Yeah, exactly. And I finally agree.
Now here’s what I was thinking about tonight – the conclusion I came to about myself. I asked myself tonight, have I outgrown my friends? Or just what my friends do? Or maybe I’m just in a mood, I don’t know. But I do know that the conclusion I did come to was that I must be growing up. Finally.
Let me give you some examples.
Last weekend, I went somewhere with a close friend of mine, and her two adorkable (we’re making it a word now, shut it!) daughters. We then met up with some other good friends and their daughters. It was messy, it was hectic at times, but mostly it was how it always is with them – terribly fun. I look around at them all and envy each and every one.
You see, ever since I was a little girl playing with my Barbie’s and tea sets, I knew what I wanted to be when I grew up. A mom. No other career was even thinkable for me, I just knew with absolute certainty that I wanted to be married and have kids. Part of this was my upbringing of course. My mother was always like that as well, she always said she wanted twelve kids when she grew up. She got me, and my two brothers. That was apparently enough for her, after all. Don’t blame her.
I don’t really want twelve kids or anything, but now at least you know where I might have gotten the influence.
But when I really knew I wanted to be a mom, and not just a ‘playing house mom’, was when I was old enough to finally babysit and take care of a little one.
I started out helping to feed the baby, change the diapers even, and I found myself never really minding doing any of it. I actually enjoyed it all immensely. Yep, definitely something wrong with me…
I babysat for that close friend of mine, mentioned above, for a while. Watched her oldest grow from birth, to the hilarious, almost six-year-old, little lady she is now – and then the next one! I loved doing it. It was honestly the best job I’ll ever have. So that’s when I knew, for absolute sure, that I wanted to be a mom – badly.
Bringing us back now to that weekend, I realized that that’s
where I wanted to be in my life now.
And when I was younger, I assumed I’d be there at my age already. (Not
that I’m old, or too old, or anything. Haha!) But you know what they say happens
when you assume…
So the next day, I happen to end up at the same place again, but with my friends who are a bit closer to my age, and single.
…There were just moments where I shake my head. Such nonsense happening! Things I would find entertaining if I were sixteen still…But with utter astonishment, and horrific realization, I remembered that I wasn’t sixteen any more, and that I honestly couldn’t remember much of being sixteen. That whole year really flew by me…so did the next few years. It’s all a blur. Ha!
Now it’s funny too, because while having this brilliant conclusion of mine tonight, part of it was thinking about something that particular person had wrote to me in a text message. I had mentioned similar thoughts of how time really flies, and that he was going to be a certain age soon. This particular person then expressed how he couldn’t believe it either, and that he still felt sixteen.
………………..
This, too, was a wake up call. Even though it was nothing I didn’t already know! It’s weird how that works, eh?
I’ve known this person to be young and a little too carefree at times, carefree with peoples feelings, especially. It’s like I’ve always told that close friend of mine, “this particular person is confused, and simply doesn’t know what he wants.” Strangely enough, even with that valuable information, I still sank until the water went over my head and I struggled to breathe.
This particular person is stuck being a sixteen-year-old!
I have come to the strange, almost terrifying, yet no doubt beneficial conclusion that I am not.
Now, will I say, “And with this, I am finally over that particular person!”?
No. I simply guarantee it. Think of me how you will, I can’t say these things again, only to be considered a hypocrite later on when he comes back around again. Which he has, often. I don’t know that I can take much more, but sadly, he is a good friend of mine, and I can never seem to be the one to cut loose a friendship. I can’t allow myself to let that part of it go.
It would be more painful to not have him at all, then the pain I feel now – that haunts me.
I’m honestly tired of even writing about this particular person. It reminds me of that great quote from Henry Miller, “The best way to get over a woman is to turn her into literature.” I’m sure it goes both ways…
I didn’t think that was true, because it never worked for me, but maybe it has this time. I’m hopeful, but I’m also practical – at times. Selectively.
I’m really sorry for how long this entry was! I’m sure most of it was drabble that no one reads, but regardless, I needed it written out of me.
“Something always brings me back to you. It never takes too long…”
So the next day, I happen to end up at the same place again, but with my friends who are a bit closer to my age, and single.
…There were just moments where I shake my head. Such nonsense happening! Things I would find entertaining if I were sixteen still…But with utter astonishment, and horrific realization, I remembered that I wasn’t sixteen any more, and that I honestly couldn’t remember much of being sixteen. That whole year really flew by me…so did the next few years. It’s all a blur. Ha!
Now it’s funny too, because while having this brilliant conclusion of mine tonight, part of it was thinking about something that particular person had wrote to me in a text message. I had mentioned similar thoughts of how time really flies, and that he was going to be a certain age soon. This particular person then expressed how he couldn’t believe it either, and that he still felt sixteen.
………………..
This, too, was a wake up call. Even though it was nothing I didn’t already know! It’s weird how that works, eh?
I’ve known this person to be young and a little too carefree at times, carefree with peoples feelings, especially. It’s like I’ve always told that close friend of mine, “this particular person is confused, and simply doesn’t know what he wants.” Strangely enough, even with that valuable information, I still sank until the water went over my head and I struggled to breathe.
This particular person is stuck being a sixteen-year-old!
I have come to the strange, almost terrifying, yet no doubt beneficial conclusion that I am not.
Now, will I say, “And with this, I am finally over that particular person!”?
No. I simply guarantee it. Think of me how you will, I can’t say these things again, only to be considered a hypocrite later on when he comes back around again. Which he has, often. I don’t know that I can take much more, but sadly, he is a good friend of mine, and I can never seem to be the one to cut loose a friendship. I can’t allow myself to let that part of it go.
It would be more painful to not have him at all, then the pain I feel now – that haunts me.
I’m honestly tired of even writing about this particular person. It reminds me of that great quote from Henry Miller, “The best way to get over a woman is to turn her into literature.” I’m sure it goes both ways…
I didn’t think that was true, because it never worked for me, but maybe it has this time. I’m hopeful, but I’m also practical – at times. Selectively.
I’m really sorry for how long this entry was! I’m sure most of it was drabble that no one reads, but regardless, I needed it written out of me.
“Something always brings me back to you. It never takes too long…”
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