I never realized that being single would ultimately define me until I realized in the midst of driving listening to a song on my mp3 player that I was wishing I could share the music with someone else. How sad is it that your own happiness, which should be derived from your sole pleasure in the enjoyment of your favorite songs, movies, television shows, etc, becomes obsolete until you gain the opportunity to share it with someone else?
Granted, my emotions have been all over the place as of late and I am working on a step by step program to get it all straightened out or at least, rationalized. Yet, I cannot obsessing on the fact that there are so much I cannot have or know I should not have because of circumstances beyond my control. My mind is just overrun with these thoughts about people, I love, loved or would like to love and I cannot make it stop. It's a constant soap opera running through my brain, and not even a good soap opera (but really, are they all really any good?).
The definition of who I am has just become such a faint shadow of what it used to be that I'm constantly running around trying to fill it in with a marker and make it darker, more solid and more me. Independent.
I am failing miserably. I hate emotions and I hate men. I don't even think it's men in general. If I were gay, I'd be hating the women. It's just the gender of the sex I'm attracted to that I hate. Yet, I love them so much that it's a constant source of my aggravation. It's like that splinter that just got embedded under the skin on your palm. You'll forget about it for awhile, go about your way and then you'll slam your hand just a little too hard on that table and it'll sting. It will come back and aggravate you.
Well, there is this one particular "splinter" that I just cannot get out from under my skin and it keeps stinging everyday, as if it were a fresh wound. I should not even be feeling this intense about this person. It defies all logic and reasoning. By all rights and accounts, I should be able to just forget this person and move on with my life. There is nothing connecting me to this person that would make me always think of them. The strand that connects us is like a fishline. Thin and flexible when it needs to be but too hard for me to really break, as much as I may want to.
This person haunts my dreams and if I allow myself to dwell on this person, I will smile for a second at the brief flash of memory. It would be an image, a word, a smile, a moment in time and I will smile but then I will look around, see where I am in my life and it will just all come crashing down on me.
I love that person but I also hate that person with every fiber of my being because I hate what it is doing to me and I just want to go see them even if its just to torture myself. I would gladly allow myself to be tortured just for the sake of a minute of happiness.
A house of cards. Each suit representing a facet of my personality. All precariously perched upon each other and awaiting that gust of wind to just knock them all over into a red, white and black mess.
Like I've said to some other people in the past, I need the "I'm a Mess" pin.
Granted, my emotions have been all over the place as of late and I am working on a step by step program to get it all straightened out or at least, rationalized. Yet, I cannot obsessing on the fact that there are so much I cannot have or know I should not have because of circumstances beyond my control. My mind is just overrun with these thoughts about people, I love, loved or would like to love and I cannot make it stop. It's a constant soap opera running through my brain, and not even a good soap opera (but really, are they all really any good?).
The definition of who I am has just become such a faint shadow of what it used to be that I'm constantly running around trying to fill it in with a marker and make it darker, more solid and more me. Independent.
I am failing miserably. I hate emotions and I hate men. I don't even think it's men in general. If I were gay, I'd be hating the women. It's just the gender of the sex I'm attracted to that I hate. Yet, I love them so much that it's a constant source of my aggravation. It's like that splinter that just got embedded under the skin on your palm. You'll forget about it for awhile, go about your way and then you'll slam your hand just a little too hard on that table and it'll sting. It will come back and aggravate you.
Well, there is this one particular "splinter" that I just cannot get out from under my skin and it keeps stinging everyday, as if it were a fresh wound. I should not even be feeling this intense about this person. It defies all logic and reasoning. By all rights and accounts, I should be able to just forget this person and move on with my life. There is nothing connecting me to this person that would make me always think of them. The strand that connects us is like a fishline. Thin and flexible when it needs to be but too hard for me to really break, as much as I may want to.
This person haunts my dreams and if I allow myself to dwell on this person, I will smile for a second at the brief flash of memory. It would be an image, a word, a smile, a moment in time and I will smile but then I will look around, see where I am in my life and it will just all come crashing down on me.
I love that person but I also hate that person with every fiber of my being because I hate what it is doing to me and I just want to go see them even if its just to torture myself. I would gladly allow myself to be tortured just for the sake of a minute of happiness.
A house of cards. Each suit representing a facet of my personality. All precariously perched upon each other and awaiting that gust of wind to just knock them all over into a red, white and black mess.
Like I've said to some other people in the past, I need the "I'm a Mess" pin.
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