i get text messages going 'what's wrong' without ever saying anything.
i was woken the other day to a message telling me that my friend had bought me a ticked to see a comedian as part of the fringe show... without asking me.
and i was standing at my window, watching the gum trees change from bleak, sun-bleached green and beige, into purple and sage - for the second time in a week - and i realised that, even with all that we;ve been through together, tom is one of the only people that i know i will stay in conact with for life, not because i have to, but because i want to.
i'm feeling full of love at the moment. and none of it for daniel.
... well, i lie, i do love that kid, but he needs to be put in a side-drawer for now because dwelling on the lack of him does nothing good for me....
anyways..... *endrant*
this love is for my friends.
it is not often that i feel a particular sense of pride and loyalty to my friends purely because i find it to be tempting fate to call them 'best friends' or even 'close' because in the past those with such labels have turned around and stabbed me in the back. so, i have trust issues, and am wary of people, which doesn't help my already shy demeanour around strangers. but i'm going off on a tangent.
there's nick, who i have seen ONCE in his 6 weeks of being at home on leave. he's moving to sydney and i'm going to miss him terribly, but i suppose being away so often kinda prepared me for that. we;re drifting apart, and it makes me sad, but i still know he's the one i want to go out on the town with, and cook massive pizzas with at home.
tom and i have spent a lot of our time together, or within 200m of eachother ever since we were 13, simply because of seeing eachother every day at school. we've had that much of a roller coaster, and watched the other as we've grown as people, and after this week, i know for sure that he is one that, even if i want to kill him sometimes, he is one of those keepers that you live through all the good the bad and the ugly with, and still come out the other end stronger, holding eachothers hand because thats what friends do for eachother.
that idealism has left me with many a bitter twisted thought about 'friends' of mine, but him..... he's a keeper.
and there is justin, who knows me so well and has been so supportive aobut everything ever, it is impossible not to love him. not only that, but he can organise things (see above) and know that i'm in. he's one that i can tell anything and everything and he sorts through it with me, and gives me such good advice i swear he's going to write a self-help book or something some day.
and finally theres april..... a my goodness if ever there was a time for me to meet someone that clicks with me, it was now. the fruit of years of depending on the belief that i would meet people i clicked with once i finished school. well, that time is here and she is my Person. as Christina from Greys Anatomy said, 'if i murdered someone, she would be the person i call to help me drag the body across the living room floor'
which i would.
call her, not murder someone. mind you, there are two people i can think of off the top of my head that i would like to see gone, but we have already discussed this arrangement and figured that it would be too blindingly obvious that it was her doing the dirty work for me, what with the brand 'for Liv' left on their bodies :)
ahhhhh some people would think we're serious about it, the venom that comes with the details.......... we're not.
well...... half-not.
^_^
i've come to realise that i have some pretty awsome friends, and i love them dearly, and even with all the miserable melancholic feelings i have, i know that theyll always be there for me, purely because its a fact, and i would go to the ends of the world for these people.
Sunday, 17 January 2010
Thursday, 14 January 2010
And the goodbye is always the hardest one.
I can't fully articulate what's going on inside my head right now because 1. it will make me start crying again. 2. theres about 8 trains of thought happening, most of which are hypothetical conversations, arguments. and 3. I will sound pathetic.
Why??
Because the boy I love told me he can't be with me because he's in love with someone else and it isn't fair to lead me on.
By some strange mental power, I can actually live with that fact, because it's logical. I can't live with the fact that he's gone, and I just lost a best friend. It went beyond 'liking to be around him' weeks ago, he physically makes me feel better just with his presence and even as he told me this, in the back of my car, waiting for his mum and sister to come back, I was still sitting in that cocoon of him taking away every problem I have, eve if he's the cause. Once I left that bubble... well..... I haven't cried that hard in a long, long time.
I keep getting told that I'll find someone else. But, at this point, I dont want anyone else. Just him. Always just him. I kept waking up in the night, thinking that it was all a mistake and just one of those freaky-realistic nightmares. Apparently not.
I can't do this without him, not simply because I lost the first person I've ever truly fallen in love with, but because I feel like he's cut himself out entirely, leaving me with 1/3 less of me than I had before, and I have no friend either.
And it shits me off because there are basically no connections, no reasons, for me to go back to his town and just see him on passing. He was always the reason. Him and his family. Which I will see before I leave for Thailand, if only to get my book back and return a chapstick.
I want to change it. But that needs time, to see if I'm missed enough to be welcomed back. God, I hope I am. I don't want to be without him. And goodness knows I have the strongest resolve of anyone I know, and that makes things happen the way I want them to, but..... I don't know....
I need to talk to him, because I froze up last night and just sat there in shock, but I need to say them, ask them. Because all I have left is hope. Stupid, foolish, heartbroken hope.
Why??
Because the boy I love told me he can't be with me because he's in love with someone else and it isn't fair to lead me on.
By some strange mental power, I can actually live with that fact, because it's logical. I can't live with the fact that he's gone, and I just lost a best friend. It went beyond 'liking to be around him' weeks ago, he physically makes me feel better just with his presence and even as he told me this, in the back of my car, waiting for his mum and sister to come back, I was still sitting in that cocoon of him taking away every problem I have, eve if he's the cause. Once I left that bubble... well..... I haven't cried that hard in a long, long time.
I keep getting told that I'll find someone else. But, at this point, I dont want anyone else. Just him. Always just him. I kept waking up in the night, thinking that it was all a mistake and just one of those freaky-realistic nightmares. Apparently not.
I can't do this without him, not simply because I lost the first person I've ever truly fallen in love with, but because I feel like he's cut himself out entirely, leaving me with 1/3 less of me than I had before, and I have no friend either.
And it shits me off because there are basically no connections, no reasons, for me to go back to his town and just see him on passing. He was always the reason. Him and his family. Which I will see before I leave for Thailand, if only to get my book back and return a chapstick.
I want to change it. But that needs time, to see if I'm missed enough to be welcomed back. God, I hope I am. I don't want to be without him. And goodness knows I have the strongest resolve of anyone I know, and that makes things happen the way I want them to, but..... I don't know....
I need to talk to him, because I froze up last night and just sat there in shock, but I need to say them, ask them. Because all I have left is hope. Stupid, foolish, heartbroken hope.
Monday, 11 January 2010
Sleeping in safety
This corner is like a safety box, with enclosing walls on three sides, enough that sitting at the very top of my mattress feels as though one is in a very small enclave, and can survey the rest of the room without being a part of it.
I like it like this, as it makes me feel secure, safe, and, oddly enough, organised. This last fact is totally irrational as my room is, frankly, a shambles. Thats what comes with moving everything you own from one side of the room to the other. Once i find homes for them, i'm going to have significantly less objects invading this space. But that's another story....
In this space, I can sit, and the pillows soak up the emotion, and I can sleep peacefully, for the most part. In this single square metre, it is silent, free from other's opinions, and my own thoughts. They reside on the beanbag and the floor.
The dog still sleeps on my softball kit under my bed, and this is placed conveniently under my bead-head. So, every now and again I hear 'puff ... puff... puff' as he breathes in his little doggy sleep. He's the one space invader I don't mind whatsoever. He's just a part of life, as is heartbreak and laughter and fun and boredom, hard work and leisure, pleasure and pain. Just a part of life. But it all bleeds into one colour here in this space: pink. The deep hue of my wall and pillow, and a splash of blue from my sheets.
I like it like this, as it makes me feel secure, safe, and, oddly enough, organised. This last fact is totally irrational as my room is, frankly, a shambles. Thats what comes with moving everything you own from one side of the room to the other. Once i find homes for them, i'm going to have significantly less objects invading this space. But that's another story....
In this space, I can sit, and the pillows soak up the emotion, and I can sleep peacefully, for the most part. In this single square metre, it is silent, free from other's opinions, and my own thoughts. They reside on the beanbag and the floor.
The dog still sleeps on my softball kit under my bed, and this is placed conveniently under my bead-head. So, every now and again I hear 'puff ... puff... puff' as he breathes in his little doggy sleep. He's the one space invader I don't mind whatsoever. He's just a part of life, as is heartbreak and laughter and fun and boredom, hard work and leisure, pleasure and pain. Just a part of life. But it all bleeds into one colour here in this space: pink. The deep hue of my wall and pillow, and a splash of blue from my sheets.
It's Not Me
It can't be, because I had the best night's rest I've had in months last night, and I didn't let go of my pillow the entire time, that I am certain of, because I half woke up about nine times, but this is okay.
I had this dream, where the government used a helicopter with missiles to blow up their own country's Boeing 747, full of people. This in turn caused the plane to crash into the Rocky Mountains, which began an avalanche of rocks and trees. It juts collapsed. And the sensible thing was to climb up, not run down, because there was no chance of survival by running away, only by facing it and dodging. And I could see massive boulders, and pine trees falling towards me, but I ran up, and sideways, and up some more. Only a small percentage of the hundreds of people on the mountainside survived. I saw TV coverage of it later on in the dream, and there were others sprinting up like I was, and so many died when half this one mountain fell over.
Then I was in a waiting room, telling a woman about it, and how I knew it was the government that did it. She just looked at me, and said 'come with me' and took me by the arm and into another room, where there were about half a dozen people sitting around. They were all special in some way. There was a little boy who could manipulate energy. And a gaunt woman in the corner. A man came to me, lay me down, and said 'do you know what I can do?' I looked at him and said 'yes. You take memories, dreams'
'That’s right'.
And with that, he placed his thumb and index finger against my forehead, and pulled my memories out. Or tried. I just shut my eyes and could see them moving, like white light, out of my skull towards his hand. And then.... I woke up sitting next to that little boy. But there were more of us. I looked at him, and he asked why I was here. 'They took my memory'
'Of what?'
'Because I saw our government kill hundreds of its own people'
He looked at me in shock, realising as I did, that the man DIDN'T take my memories. The woman that brought me there heard me, and said I was to go see Steven Hawking. A young man looked at me in horror and said 'if you go in there you will NEVER come out!' He was the most powerful man in wherever I was, clearly, because weaker attempts had failed. I said to the little boy quietly to prepare himself, and think strong. I looked at the young man, who nodded, and told the woman in the corner, and a couple on the opposite wall.
I shut my eyes, and then opened them and everyone had needles coming out of them, all lit up, like optic fibres. The little boy was red on his torso, and blue on his jeans, and the needles moved up all by themselves, like a porcupine. We all did. Yellows, greens, red and blues, all rippling colours, all getting stronger. Suddenly, a loud band was heard and the door blew off its hinges, and we made a run for it. These people had been on the mountain too. And Daniel was there, in an apartment leading from this hellhole, waiting for me. He picked me up and hugged me, put me down, and we ran. Me and him and the people with powers. I must have been a threat, or powerful or something, else wise they would never have put me in there. Knowledge always was power, and those with all the brute force are terrified of it. I woke up in a double bed, clinging to D, who merely groaned a bit at my movement, rolled over, and cuddled me. I thought to myself, 'he's just a pillow when I really do wake up.’ Rolled over and sure enough, there was my pillow in my arms.
This isn't my angst that I feel. It's not, because I am dreaming in Epics again. I am dreaming of power, and justice, and super powers, just like I used to. So who am I channelling here? Live around people that believe they're empathic long enough and you begin to trust your own instincs a whole lot more. Seems that maybe I'm more receptive than I thought originally....
I had this dream, where the government used a helicopter with missiles to blow up their own country's Boeing 747, full of people. This in turn caused the plane to crash into the Rocky Mountains, which began an avalanche of rocks and trees. It juts collapsed. And the sensible thing was to climb up, not run down, because there was no chance of survival by running away, only by facing it and dodging. And I could see massive boulders, and pine trees falling towards me, but I ran up, and sideways, and up some more. Only a small percentage of the hundreds of people on the mountainside survived. I saw TV coverage of it later on in the dream, and there were others sprinting up like I was, and so many died when half this one mountain fell over.
Then I was in a waiting room, telling a woman about it, and how I knew it was the government that did it. She just looked at me, and said 'come with me' and took me by the arm and into another room, where there were about half a dozen people sitting around. They were all special in some way. There was a little boy who could manipulate energy. And a gaunt woman in the corner. A man came to me, lay me down, and said 'do you know what I can do?' I looked at him and said 'yes. You take memories, dreams'
'That’s right'.
And with that, he placed his thumb and index finger against my forehead, and pulled my memories out. Or tried. I just shut my eyes and could see them moving, like white light, out of my skull towards his hand. And then.... I woke up sitting next to that little boy. But there were more of us. I looked at him, and he asked why I was here. 'They took my memory'
'Of what?'
'Because I saw our government kill hundreds of its own people'
He looked at me in shock, realising as I did, that the man DIDN'T take my memories. The woman that brought me there heard me, and said I was to go see Steven Hawking. A young man looked at me in horror and said 'if you go in there you will NEVER come out!' He was the most powerful man in wherever I was, clearly, because weaker attempts had failed. I said to the little boy quietly to prepare himself, and think strong. I looked at the young man, who nodded, and told the woman in the corner, and a couple on the opposite wall.
I shut my eyes, and then opened them and everyone had needles coming out of them, all lit up, like optic fibres. The little boy was red on his torso, and blue on his jeans, and the needles moved up all by themselves, like a porcupine. We all did. Yellows, greens, red and blues, all rippling colours, all getting stronger. Suddenly, a loud band was heard and the door blew off its hinges, and we made a run for it. These people had been on the mountain too. And Daniel was there, in an apartment leading from this hellhole, waiting for me. He picked me up and hugged me, put me down, and we ran. Me and him and the people with powers. I must have been a threat, or powerful or something, else wise they would never have put me in there. Knowledge always was power, and those with all the brute force are terrified of it. I woke up in a double bed, clinging to D, who merely groaned a bit at my movement, rolled over, and cuddled me. I thought to myself, 'he's just a pillow when I really do wake up.’ Rolled over and sure enough, there was my pillow in my arms.
This isn't my angst that I feel. It's not, because I am dreaming in Epics again. I am dreaming of power, and justice, and super powers, just like I used to. So who am I channelling here? Live around people that believe they're empathic long enough and you begin to trust your own instincs a whole lot more. Seems that maybe I'm more receptive than I thought originally....
Sunday, 10 January 2010
I can only ever be me...
I'm not entirely sure who that is, at the moment. I can, however, try things out, and if they feel right, then it's okay. If not, well..... don't repeat the experience.
I'm unsure of myself, more than anything, like..... like I can't believe what I see, hear, feel. Logic tells me that I should trust these, but I can't handle another breach of this trust. I can't pretend that I have given back that same level of it, either, and that's all it is right now: a façade. I drop it and he sees that something's wrong. Well, he always was able to read me ridiculously well... not that I make a conscious effort to hide it the majority of the time. Its just at this particular point, I'm not sure what exactly is bothering me so much. I feel like I should be over the Indiscretion by now........ but I'm not. It's still sitting there, in my subconscious, festering. And it is doing so because I feel as though talking about it any more than has already been said is going to be met with 'ugh not again!', purely because I'm not sure what more there is to be said. A promise was made for it not to happen again, and god knows regret is there. I'm just.......
I don't know. And I hate that.
So here I sit, unsure what to do with myself, unsure what to say, and with no idea what could happen when I finally do spill my guts and every thought I've had in the last 24 hours comes out. But ... I've seen him both of the last two days, and am still being wary not to overcrowd and become a nuisance.
So no, I'm not okay, and I'm not sure why, because it seems to be just a general feeling of angst. But ... I do know that I will be okay eventually. It's just a matter of being comfortable in my own life, and comfortable enough around those that I love, to relax and stop feeling like I need to be composed all the time.
I'm stepping on eggshells and I need to start walking normally, lest I lose my mind and scare someone.
I'm unsure of myself, more than anything, like..... like I can't believe what I see, hear, feel. Logic tells me that I should trust these, but I can't handle another breach of this trust. I can't pretend that I have given back that same level of it, either, and that's all it is right now: a façade. I drop it and he sees that something's wrong. Well, he always was able to read me ridiculously well... not that I make a conscious effort to hide it the majority of the time. Its just at this particular point, I'm not sure what exactly is bothering me so much. I feel like I should be over the Indiscretion by now........ but I'm not. It's still sitting there, in my subconscious, festering. And it is doing so because I feel as though talking about it any more than has already been said is going to be met with 'ugh not again!', purely because I'm not sure what more there is to be said. A promise was made for it not to happen again, and god knows regret is there. I'm just.......
I don't know. And I hate that.
So here I sit, unsure what to do with myself, unsure what to say, and with no idea what could happen when I finally do spill my guts and every thought I've had in the last 24 hours comes out. But ... I've seen him both of the last two days, and am still being wary not to overcrowd and become a nuisance.
So no, I'm not okay, and I'm not sure why, because it seems to be just a general feeling of angst. But ... I do know that I will be okay eventually. It's just a matter of being comfortable in my own life, and comfortable enough around those that I love, to relax and stop feeling like I need to be composed all the time.
I'm stepping on eggshells and I need to start walking normally, lest I lose my mind and scare someone.
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