Some might ask why I write these
online, where there is no privacy, where there is no conversation between
myself and others over seemingly profound issues in my life. I choose to write
these journals online because I enjoy the anonymity of my readers, I like to
know that there are people out there listening to what I’m saying. I also like
the notion that people can relate to what I’m saying and understand me better
without me having to encounter them personally.
I’ve grown up being accustomed to
not having someone truly there to listen to what I’m saying, to have someone
close to my heart when I was younger to vent my emotional tirades. These
repressed emotions have caused large ramifications on ultimately who I am now,
a seemingly content dude masking a sensitive psyche resulting with anger
problems. Growing accustomed to this isolation, this constant absence of an
authority figure just to even talk about simple things such as everyday musings
has created a space that just keeps filling up. This space has pushed people
away from me because I am now 20 years old, still unable to deal with personal
intimacy when talking about issues that anyone would expect to encounter.
Frankly, I find it increasingly awkward and intimidating to talk about these
feelings in person. I was beginning to scratch the surface with a person, but
that didn’t work out well at all. In fact, it has made me evermore insensitive
and angry masking an even more vulnerable side that became unpredictably
volatile. It has made me less loving and more critical of my surroundings.
I have consistently been let down in person by people I trust the most from a very young age till now. It has created this fear of letting anyone into my heart in fear of being too vulnerable and susceptible to emotional pain. This let down, starting from my own father to various figures during my adolescent/teen years have created this communication gap in which I severely lack. For example, I’m notorious for being
awful at communicating how I feel to my girlfriends, especially when we are
arguing. I find it impossible to get across how I feel unless I write it down
slowly and thoughtfully. Being incapable of communicating my thoughts
effectively frustrates me and as a result I get worked up easily, resulting in
anger problems.
Why have I never had an authority
figure to look out for me when I was younger? It starts with my father, butI think I will split up my logs in fear of
them being too longwinded and will post them in time. My real hope is
that for people who read this site, to understand me a bit better, especially
my close friends who read this. I guess I hope all my close friends do in the
end, because this is the only form of communication I’m capable of. People, who
already read this believe it or not, know me a whole lot better than anyone
else.
Time and time again, I find myself nostalgic and retrospective. I'm not even so sure what are the key drivers to this emotional roller coaster. Perhaps, my inability to perform at the expectations set out by my parents, hell my own. The curse that has crippled me throughout these past couple years, strangling and suffocating my mental sanity. Its like everything I tried to repress was able to unlock itself in a matter of seconds. Everything I wished for in the world was placed back in my hands again in a matter of seconds, and then taken away in the same amount of time. This mental tease has caused ramifications that go beyond my comprehension. I'm not even sure why. I was given the opportunity to explain myself.
She asked if I missed her. Thoughts and emotions rushed through the veins of my brain and heart. Overload. There was so much to say, but what could I say. Is it even possible to describe this feeling I have, 2 years removed from what was/is the best experience in my life. The following events of that night came short of anything i ever dreamed of. I used to stay up at night and dream about what I could say to her, if I had the chance. When it was too hard to bear, to keep inside, I had written down points that I would say to her, possibly, foolishly thinking, she would somehow leave her man and come back. But no matter how long I spent trying to explain my feelings for this girl, there really was no logical explanation. For all the times she walked out on me, betrayed me, hurt me, my feelings for her are still stronger for her than for anyone on this world. For all the girlfriends I've had after who would have never hurt me, who would take care of me, I still don't feel the same way. These girls, threatened by my explanation of her would always feel insecure and inadequate, and I don't blame them one bit.
For years I have tried to quantify my feelings for her, but perhaps its finally time to give up. These ineffable feelings have caused me to relinquish my soul. For years I have tried to find a replacement, but no one has matched the feat. Its quite sad and depressing. The romance and love of dating is less fun, because I don't take it as seriously as I did before.
I feel like 2 years later, I am still the boyish little character that enjoys immature comedy and frivolous activities. Perhaps this is why I continue to fall short of my capabilities, entrap myself in this vicious cycle. Perhaps this is why I am stuck in this emotional cycle that has become so predictable it has made my life mundane. She's grown so much. No longer was she the one that I sang to in harbour front. She has grown into a girl with superior confidence in all aspects of her life, a girl who has flourished under independence and pride.
I feel inadequate. I want to grow up. Maybe I have. I once carved a girl's name in a tree, stalked a girl's
kindergarden friends and want to do it whole heartedly. I don't know if
I could do that anymore. I was tempted multiple times to express my feelings for her physically and verbally, but held back. I would never have resisted before with her. Perhaps its the fear of rejection, and losing any connection with her at all. The opportunity cost of losing her was too great to take another stab at something that was so surreal. Or maybe it is finally a sign that I have started to move on, after 2 years of whining, I can resist the one girl that captivates me. My own idealization of love torments me, as I wish to be with her. I know it in my heart to stop this, but my feelings won't let me go.
I wish to move on, because as easily as she felt that way, she will move on and escape into a different environment. She doesn't see love as I do, she doesn't see me as I do to her. I know its impossible, but perhaps its time to accept it. My inadequacies fail me. Once again, I watched her leave me foolishly thinking she would feel the same way, that fate would strike twice.
It never works the way you envision it, does it? In the heat of the moment, with emotions flaring and interchanging, you seem to slowly lose grip of reality, your surroundings dissipate into thin air as you sit lonely with nothing but your feckless thoughts to keep you company, you realize life’s lessons too late and you sit there alone and afraid of what is next to come; it is always with good intentions but the simplicity of it all is masked by layered perceptions inevitably destroying all good intentions, leaving you dissatisfied and unfulfilled, sad and resentful with nothing but feckless thoughts to ponder about
Perception is a bitch, isn’t it? Our souls, merely prisoners of our inadequate body, feeling the world through the unintelligible realm of love, understanding what is tangible though shadows illuminated above watching reality as they know it pass by in front of them day after day, compelled to seek for what absolute truth
would portray, awaiting the day to be vindicated from this cave unfortunately still looking up to the rays face to face as a
slave
Mary and Tom sat together in the
park. Everyday at 4 pm., they would meet together and go walk on a trail for an
hour exactly. It was a routine they had vowed to carry out ever since their
university days. The hour would fly by like seconds as they joked and laughed
about the old times. Leaves would fall, a bed of snow would lay on top of the
fallow ground immaculately untouched, flowers would bloom and rain would pour
as the two marched through the seasons untested, unchanged. It was a true test
of time as they dwelled further into their intimate secrets and desires. They
became friends who depended on each other, friends who they both turned to for
help in dire circumstances. It was a remarkable feat that many envied and
aspired to have. However, bit by bit, their hours turned to half an hours,
which then turned into occasional phone calls, and as quickly as they fell into
each other, their dependence for one another dissipated into thin air. Season
by season, the trail would never be visited again. There would be no more
footprints in the bed of snow; there would no longer be visits under an
umbrella as they weathered the storm together.
One day, Mary felt nostalgic and
attempted to contact Tom, but only to hear of his death which occurred months
ago. Little did she know the bond they shared meant so much to her, little did
she understand how special he was for her in her life, till he was gone. Life
has a weird way in presenting itself to us. Things are never as apparent as
they seem. Love is lost too easily and life is toyed with too frequently as we
attempt to figure out the political gambit, the social jargon that surrounds
us, that suffocates us. The concave walls that surround us have eclipsed us
from understanding what really means to us, what we really appreciate. It is
only the sense of loss that evokes a sense of appreciation. Mary sat there
frustrated with herself and the world. She sat there lost and confused, as she
no longer had no where to turn to, no one to lean on. As she walked on the
trail again, this inexorable feeling of hate overwhelmed her conscious, her
heart seemed too heavy to bear. She bowed down on her knees, looked up into the
sky, and yelled at the top of her lungs. The walls seemed a little closer.
Life as it
seems is never too much to bear. It seems so easily captivating, the hedonistic
lifestyle capturing the essence of joy, pleasure, and amusement. The perception
is to enjoy life to the fullest, yet it seems like we are missing the point. I’m
sorry Great Grandma, I love you for an eternity. I never said it enough. I love
you with all my heart.
I'm feeling rather pensive tonight. Maybe it's because I'm back to my normal self again. Over-confident preppy prick masking my vulnerabilities and numerous insecurities. Maybe it's because I still fail in communicating my emotions, and what's really on my mind. I tend to shape and change what I say in my mind, morphing any sort of moral value I have to appease and settle my case the easier way out. What does that make me as a person? What does that say about what I stand for as a person? The palpitations of my heart increases dramatically when I try to tell her things I'm not usually comfortable in telling anyone. Is that a good thing? I feel in-tuned with myself and more comfortable in how I feel when she's around. Yet I feel like I left this shit a long time ago. I don't want to deal with complications, and frivolous arguments that get blown out of proportion. I just want to like her. Why can't it ever be THAT easy? Why do such trivial matters hold such significant importance? Why does this shit always lead to the fate of my relationships, and the worst of all is that no matter what I say, I can't convince otherwise.
It's a puzzling question. Maybe I'm not ready for another relationship. I haven't been ready for years, what makes me think I"m ready for one now? I've slipped into a false sense of security that has as a result made me complacent and insensitive to feelings.
