Who'd have thought that time in Middletown would be kicking up all the shit I thought I had buried somewhere behind me? I'm beginning to think there's something about this town which spells drama. The part that's annoying is that it isn't even mine, but trying to be helpful has opened some sort of emotional floodgates. Fantastic.
I am a good listener. It's a skill I honed because I yammer and I feel bad for talking someone's ear off and not giving them the chance to return the favor. I also observe because a writer always pays attention to details. Somehow I got mixed up in interpersonal shit because people like to talk and talk and talk and I blend into the woodwork watching the shit they do. One situation in general really bugs me because I hate seeing people walk into traps. Really liking someone can make you so damned clueless. It's kinda painful to see the side of the girl who is building it up to be some great love affair and the guy who would really fuck anything that moves and has no shame about being a dog. Sigh. It reminds me of how stupid I was -- and probably will be again because I'm not so untouchably evolved or anything. That point where you compromise yourself and ignore all those voices inside screaming at you to open your ears. I remember too well the fear of thinking that it's better to be with someone good or bad and feeling something than alone and miserably thinking of what you'd do if you if only someone would be with you. I don't know what it even means that I'm friends with a person that would have no regard for someone's feelings. There's no excuse to be cruel.
Karma's a real bitch. Lately because of a chance viewing on Nerve, I've been thinking about the mess I made of a lot of things last fall. I came back to school really happy, with my attentions towards this kid J overseas. The way we existed was kind of ambiguous but there's something to be said for having care or faith in someone no matter how far they are. A chance arrangement in Middletown blindsided the hell out of me and I became conflicted (and the writer of some bad poetry, but that's neither here nor there). I ended up starting the trend of bowing to agressively applied pressure no matter what I felt. I'm no innocent and I have to admit I was exhilarated by the rush of someone like the Ex who was forceful and wanted the whole world -- or specifically, J halfway around the world -- to know we were together. I botched my relationship with J who I really liked for that heady rollercoaster that I grinded to a stop three months later, worn out and sick of feeling like being with the Ex meant that I had to spend all of my time on emotional overload. And still hurt me (though I was glad it was over) that while I was thousands of miles away driving myself insane, someone put the moves on the Ex as he did me. But nothing was as fucked up to me as knowing that I broke J's heart over a guy not half the person he was. I wonder about J sometimes. I wonder if he still hates me. I wonder if he's happy. I don't believe in going backwards, i.e. trying to pick up old relationships, but I feel like he deserves some sort of an apology from me.
Sometimes I hate being young. You have to make mistakes in order to become stronger and build character and all that shit, but in retrospect, I feel like I've spent so much time working through the stress that I've missed out on things. Despite being in Middletown and not having a job yet and a laundry's list worth of present complaints, I feel happy. But, there's a sad aftertaste because I've spent 10 months -- or more if we wanna go through some more history -- being as miserable as I could be because of fuckups that keeping my wits about me would've made nonexistant. I've finally gotten to a place where I feel like I've shed all the dead weight that kept me down. School, failures, issues, relationships. It's all over. If I could just leave this town, the visual cues can go the way of the memories -- harmlessly behind me.
Posted by Candicissima at July 19, 2003 09:08 PM