Fastly becoming
April 27, 2002 @ 11:29 a.m.
This is from last night, just so you know...
Random Matt call. That wasn't fun; there are implications. "Are you Kelly Kelly, as in the Kelly who works here or a different Kelly?" Different Kelly. "'Cause the Kelly who works here is our receptionist and she's one of those girls who's really hot and doesn't know it, know what I mean?" No, not really. "Yah ya do. Anyway, her prom is tonight, and so I was wondering if she was gonna come by and model her dress for me." Sorry, wrong Kelly. I don't have a prom dress to model for you. "Haha, I'm just messing with you. Have a good night. Later." Click.
Just as simply as that, my world tumbles again. His voice is even more boyish than the radio Matt. Fucker, I want to know how you can mess with me like you do and get away with it somehow. I don't know why you are so cruel to a girl who pratically worships you.
"I swear to God it's not my fault. You people voted for him." Fuck you for making me laugh, for making me cry. You were my reason, you know. You encouraged it by turning your back. I'm sick of your voice penetrating my brain; if you're to penetrate, I'd rather it was in a less odious place.
No. No no no. I must stop thinking of him. I must push him from my mind.
For some reason, I just will not let him go. Don't be mistaken -- I want to give myself to someone who actually cares for and respects me. But there is something in me that believes I should be hurting. As though it's my duty, my calling in life...what I deserve, because of who I am and what I've become.
I long to be loved by someone near, by someone who can actually do something about it. And in wishing for that, I also wish in the deepest parts of myself to not be bothered. It doesn't make any sense, of that I am sure. But it's the truth, a defense mechanism designed that by loneliness I will not be hurt.
I am finding you cannot be completely lonely, although several times you can be alone. Those who say that they are lonely aren't necessarily lonely per se; they have all the wrong people in their heads, you see. That's what drives them to insanity, or slashing, or suicide.
The one dude, the Omar guy, from Quarashi looks so much like Matt it's freaky. Kinda sounds like him, too.
Anyhoo.
I am angry at the double standard that consistently threatens me. I am not "allowed" to drink, misbehave, dress suggestively, make financial decisions, or have any sort of personal romantic life without a supervisor, immense frowning upon me, or out-and-out derision. That's part of the reason I'm so damn anxious to strike out on my own.
The places I could see, the people that I could meet! I could go wherever I wanted, report to no one, do whatever I would like to do. Tattooing, drinking to drink, empty sex, coy smile, no predeterminations or supplanted prejudices. I could do whatever or whomever I wished to. I would be free.
I came to Fort Wayne to escape the confines of Iowa only to find that Indiana's becoming just as confining. My present situation is only a small step up from before, and soon I'll be returning to before. I've only to realize how free I truly am to be able to leave. I am often unaware of how free I could be if I didn't tie myself down to fantastical obligations. I could go wherever I'd like if only I had enough faith and courage in myself.
I'm yearning to head further East...there's nothing out West for me except Colorado and Montana, and neither of them appeal to me at the moment. Jersey sounds pleasant, and work in Manhattan...perhaps Boston, or Pennsylvania. Truly, I'd love to be in Maine. All of this depends on my job ability, however, and without a degree, I'm afraid I'm not very useful.
It would be lonely sometimes, in a place where everyone was a stranger. But there's always home to visit if a strange place becomes too overwhelming. I suppose I'm lucky in having family somewhere, even as overwhelming as they can be. And although my sudden independence would frighten and shock many who stereotype me as timid, I must begin living for myself, ramifications nonwithstanding.
And then Matt...the perpetual maggot in my shit that I insist upon redigesting. Yes, the process of caring about him has become that disgusting to me, and why I continue to do it is baffling to me. I realize, in my rational mind, that he is intensely stupid in all the areas where I insist upon intelligence, and experienced in all the places I insist upon naivety.
I realize that he is crass and uncouth and perverted and everything that is harmful to me, my soul and self-esteem being especially fragile. I will admit I am the type who thrives best under encouragement and being slightly coddled. Matt is far from any man who could perform these desirable tasks. I realize all this in my rational mind.
My heart is painfully slower.
My heart is surviving off the little hopes that replenish slowly and decompose slower. I still marvel over pervert Friday kidsnack toastada (my beloved nicknames bestowed by him). I still grin at his skewed sense of humor, his staccato giggle, his silly walk and his higher, surprisingly sexy voice. I thrive on his singular attention as a flower under sun...but eventually wilt after sunset.
He's brought me insomnia, mental unsteadiness; tears and screams later, I still have not learned. And I don't know if I ever will...Matt will probably earn a place in my heart of hearts, where Reagan and Brian reside. He hardly deserves it, and if I had a say, Matthew would have been banished from me a long time ago...however, my heart's a fickle thing. I find I rarely have control of it.
Where I stand in my own mind with him is much further along than the reality, but I vow to make him a lesson to myself one of these days. What else is there to do with him? I've waited for him for much too long, scarred myself much too deeply. Bitterness has already began to play a part in my healing, but the wounds he has given me will never completely heal. And what angers me the most is that he does not know he even gave them.
<< | >>
- - March 22, 2010
always the same - July 01, 2008
b-a-n-a-n-a-s! - December 25, 2006
elementary again - October 29, 2006
I don't like you, but I love you - October 03, 2006