indulge, in a while
Date: May 5th, 2008 6:35:07 pm - Subscribe
Mood: dancy
Times like this I turn back to writing and put on a sad song. Indulging in the fleeting feeling of being truly sad. At most these days, I allow a tear or two. Openedly, I came home today wishing that I would see my dad's room door closed. Because that would mean my mom stayed over, and I really, really just wanted to crawl into bed next to her like the kid I was before, when you knew nothing except the fact that being next to someone you love will cure everything. So easily like that.
So tonight wasn't easy.
I still did what I had to do to go about my life. Iron my clothes for the next day. As I did, I sulked at this feeling that welled up and down inside me. It felt so bad that I wondered about all the people whom I love, who once felt this way and I wasn't there somehow to make the person feel better. Maybe I was asleep, maybe I was far away, maybe I couldn't be bothered better, but I wasn't there when he or she wished, hard like me tonight, that I was.
I felt bad. And I felt a sudden urge to write an apology letter to everyone of them, to say sorry for all the times they felt the way like I did tonight, but just wasn't there.
When I lost my phone over the weekend, I only messaged 2 people that I did. I wondered about the sheer small number of people I had to inform. It seemed like even if I was uncontactable from the face of this earth beginning tomorrow, it wouldn't have been realised until a while later, and when so, by very little people. Excuse me while I indulge in this belief and sing nobody loves me its true.
I wonder if I took the life out of work, and if work took the life out of me. I wonder if many others have it worse but aren't complaining. I wonder about the people who have it good and are complaining. And as I wonder I realise I still go back to indulging in my own misery. So there you go, self misery rocks. Big time. Although it hasn't for the longest time.
Inside my heart, a little voice begs me to reach out to somebody. I resist and I neglect the imploring. For it comes to a certain time when you know that you don't entertain little voices anymore. You know that when people know and tell you that. And from what I've heard in the latest news, I've lost quite a considerable amount of the little voice.
I constantly have doubts in my head, as much as I try to fight it and as much as I don't deny I have some semblance of success to show for having fought them before. But everyone who knows me, know I'm soft as cotton inside, and if you wanted to kill me, and if I allowed you to, you could, easily, tear me apart. Excuse me while I indulge in the idea that the world has historically made me the wuss I am today.
I don't think I ask for much. In fact, I've tried very hard to get to what I've become today. Sounds like a feat, but when I think about it topline, I can only see a couple of things left: I've lost a spark. I've lost myself. I used to love and hate that about myself. Funny, still can't decide.
If I dare, I just want to say this.
I want to say that I thought about you today, and I wondered how you felt in that new home. Or maybe you wouldn't call it a home, seeing how home is something you ran away from. I wondered if you felt this pang of loneliness and nothingness hit you when you put your head down. And even though I know it probably only took you 1 minute before you went off to sleep, I know you felt it hard and real. And I wished, that I and more of life could allow me to give someone important to me, you, the important time. I didn't. I'm sorry.
I want to say that you are the strongest person I've known in my life. And being so far away yet feeling from you shows how much you have given me to take away. I have no greater wish than for you to be happy in your grey years. I'm sorry for my lack of everything. I'm thankful you still manage to find the understanding to not be angry. I wish I could be more like you.
I want to say to you, hello and how are you. I want to repeat it a thousand times because your answer never satisfies me. Maybe I never really wanted to know how you are. I think all I really wanted to know have been answered in more ways than one. Perhaps that's why I keep asking these useless questions. I want to hear something which I've already heard before. I just need to constantly act like I never did to assure myself that we are beyond that answer. I leave this opened-ended, like how it's always been.
I want to say to you, thank you and a million more. No one else comes to me as dedicatedly as much as you have. In a way only known to myself, you have succeeded me in my expectations of people. To the point, I don't know what else to do but to continue saying thank you and a million more. To the point it becomes banal and awkward so I just say one. I hope you can see that despite my moments of difficulty and behaving like I am superwoman, I have already yielded myself to less of myself simply because you don't treat me like one. And each time I am the frail and delicate weakling, you are one time bigger a person to me. The more you let me be me, the more I want to be less me to save you from dealing with me. I want to better myself simply because you give me the better of yourself. You say it's easy because it's you. I say thank you, and a million more again.
Most of all, I want to say to you, take heart. Decide that you want something more than you fear it. Decide that a crash in your body, mind and heart can be a drop in the pond. Decide that no one else decides except yourself. Decide that when you stand in front of hurled stones and sticks tomorrow, you still have the task of saying those things to the people whom you havent had the chance to. Your life is not your own. You need to know that. And all you need to know now is that. Do what it takes to get there. Break yourself, hurt yourself, but get there. Cry. Sulk. Beat. Just get there.
At least for now, you're not doing any of the above. You're talking to me. And because you did, you'll be fine.
All it takes sometimes, to get up when you don't have a someone to crawl up into bed with, is to indulge.
Indulge, in a while.
In a while, that's all I need.
Comments: (3)
