Friday, March 30, 2007
...from my earlier post and the really kind comments mdmh, megan and sarah have left, I'd like to say thank you.
I'd like to go into details and explain, but suffice it to say the girl I love, (and I'm not afraid to say that, though that would probably frighten her as we were only seeing each other a short time) made it very clear through an email and a letter that she didn't want to hear from me again, as she gave the impression I'd come across as a needy person.
You know the type. They drain you emotionally and exhaust you mentally because they never seem to be happy with anything, and constantly want to take from you. Well when I did attempt to write to her, it all came out jumbled because of the strength of my feelings and my desperation to get her back.
I'm flattered that people have said I write well, but the truth is, if it's something emotional, I find it very difficult to express. It's like an emotional writers block I guess. Or it could be because I'm a very "closed" person, I only let certain people "in" who I know well.
Anyway, I wrote her a letter at the time immediately afterwards, and it was long and rambling, trying to explain every emotional minutae of my mind at the time, and the reason I'd been so stupid.
Her response was that she was sorry that I was so mixed up at that moment, but that she couldn't deal with my problems, only I could, and she didn't want to hear from me again.
I've respected that, and I don't feel even now, that I can break that.
That's why I feel so awkward once or twice a year when she comes back home to visit her parents and we bump into each other, because it's just a token "hi" for politeness, and as much as I try to please people I can't stand politeness as a way of avoiding something. So I just run. Run away from it, camoflaging my feelings and ending up being despreately sad at what I threw away, making me appear (even though I don't think I am) this needy person around her.
Anyway, sorry to go on, that's a brief explanation.
Sometimes you don't get second chances, and you can't break people's perceptions of you, no matter what the actual reality is.
Scribbled by Jm at 12:14 pm
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
Yes I'm finally updating it.
To be honest, there hasn't seemed much point until now, till a stray thought of motivation graced my mind today.
It's Wednesday 28th March 2007 at 2:31 pm and I'm sitting here in my room at my desk, eating a cheese toastie and having a coffee, deciding whether I can afford to go to the cinema or not this afternoon.
I'm on my day off and I'm aimlessly spending the day as I always do, on my own.
I've just watched one of the most beautiful films I've seen in a long while, called "The Lake House" with Sandra Bullock and Keanu Reeves. It's a very clever, very romantic film, a re-make of an earlier one based on a book called "Patience".
I found myself low as usual after watching it, wanting the romantic fantasy to be a reality in my life, and since watching it, I can't escape the feeling of hopelessness that my life has become. You would think on the day that I took my bank to court over charges totalliing £3800 that I would be slightly more buoyant, but my low mood stems not from chronic debt, (which I'm in) but the death of hope in God, in myself, and in others. I realise this makes me sound like I'm dramtically at tipping point to do myself in, but I'm not that stupid now, I've been there before and it's not worth it.
Rather, it's a deep lonliness that leads to an even deeper sadness within me, I feel it every day that I awake, and every night I go to sleep, this gnawing hoplessness and regret.
Yes it's about a her.
I first met her over three years ago, and we immediately got on. Although there was an age gap, we seemed to connect as friends instantly and laughed at the same things, poked fun at the same people and she became a good friend. On my part there was always a tension, because I found her amazing and liked her for quite a while, but because of the age gap didn't have the courage to follow it up in anything beyond friendship. After she left where I work, (it was temporary) out of the blue she contacted me and I started writing to her as she had recently moved away on a year out.
I wrote to her quite a few times, about my friends (who were still here at the time and hadn't emigrated) about our mutual place of work and colleagues, and how everyone was doing, etc. I wrote about books I was reading, thoughts I had about the future, etc and to some extent let her in to the real me, including my chronic self-image.
In the security of not being face to face I admitted my feelings for her, and amazingly to me, she replied by inviting me down to holiday with her and her parents. Over that weekend, we got a chance to talk and she had been apparently throwing hints that I had not seen. We started going out, and although I was suffering from depression at the time, (I guess I still am actually) there were some of the happiest times of my life.
It had only been a few months, and when I went down for the weekend to visit her again, I picked up the wrong baggage from the coach and spent the week in one set of clothes until the coach company could trace the person whose bag I had, who had mine.
She was very busy in her job, and although I had come down especially for the week to see her, I only saw her a few times, which annoyed me and I reacted like the idiot I am and called it off.
I've regretted that ever since, because if you really want something, you should be prepared to wait for it, and be patient with everything that stands in your way and look for ways to work round it, but I didn't. My own personal impatience stormed through, and I wrecked something I know in my heart of hearts that could have been good.
I've had girlfriends before and after her, and to be honest, none of them were her. I've woken thinking about her on countless occasions and I wish it would go away. This film that I've watched makes me miserable, because it talks about second chances in love, and I wish that that were true in real life.
I know that she didnt want to hear from me, because she wrote me a letter, which I deserved because in the weeks that followed my calling it off, due to desperation at the choice I'd made, I did and said so many stupid things that hurt her.
That was two years ago now, and I still feel dreadful, teribble unresolved feelings coursing through my veins when I think about her. I think about her smile, her eyes, her laugh, and what it was like to kiss her, and I miss those times when we even just giggled together.
My boss knows her mum and dad, and occasionally I get to hear things about how she's doing, and it tears me apart because even if I knew where she lived (which I don't) I know she wouldn't want anything to do with me, and it's been two years. I have bumped into her a couple of times, but there's an awkwardness on my part that must come across as not wanting to be around her, although it's actually because I regret the decision I made, not because I find being around her something horrible.
Lost love is tragic, especially when it was yourself that could have prevented it.
There's a nice post for you.
I feel terrible today.
Scribbled by Jm at 2:29 pm