2004-05-31 - 12:10 a.m.
more with the spewing forth of my metaphorical guts
I'm still not ready to say it in text yet.
I've not taken Mom's and Talcott's all-but-advice and gotten myself an earlier flight out.
There's something that seems like it should be wrong, that in spite of the potential for both increasingly obvious hurt and awkwardness, I wanted to ride out the entire weekend.
Maybe it's knowing that - if at least a few stars hold - she's still going to be a friend, and I have little doubt in the possibility that she'll continue to be one of the most important friends I have.
And maybe I'm just being a fucking emotional masochist again. Haven't done that in a good long while, I suppose.
*half-frowns* I've finally (mostly) gotten "Let's Be Us Again" (Lonestar, IIRC) out of my head. Very unfortunately, it seems to have been sporadically replaced with "Whiskey Lullabye" (Alison Krauss and... er... Brad Paisely, I think?) Which is kind of dumb, as it's not an accurate representation of what I'm feeling - at least the Lonestar was, sort of. Of course, it's a damned depressing song. "Country music: the music of pain." I'm probably misquoting there, but, um, yeah.
What's funny is that I really enjoyed listening to nice "angry" music this afternoon. Wishing to God I'd brought - if not one of my less-positive (and yet not depressed) mixes with me, then at least my Rammstein CD or something.
I'm not, and cannot either force myself to be, nor pretend to honestly be flat-out angry over this turn of events - especially given that what anger I have is at myself or the situation, not at her - but focusing on angry music helps.
I'm running on so little sleep, and as some of you know, running on little sleep makes me particularly vunerable to my own emotions. Even in that state, I can usually control anger - maybe not the expression of it, but in the way it hits me. So if I can focus in on nice angry music, I can will myself to think that I'm angry, to focus on the parts of me that are so frustrated with all of this. And then I have nice, manageable - if temporary - anger.
Because I have no desire to make any sort of scene at any of the three airports I'll be in tomorrow.
While I want very much to have the full force of the hurt hurry up and hit me so I can start dealing with it, I also know that I don't really want to let myself be in that place until I've got the time and space to be alone with it; to grieve this relationship the way I ultimately grieve anything - alone.
I'd still give anything I have, do anything I could for the situation to be different. But I accept that it isn't going to happen. Knowing that I can't change her mind about things at this point doesn't mean I don't still wish that I could - that's on the long list of things that I will have to deal with or move past in the next days or weeks.
But I don't have time to break down when I'm on the job.
And being alone when I could be around people if that's what I wanted is different from being sequestered in a hotel room in the middle of nowhere, near-completely cut off from my support network, should I need it.
God, again with the spewing out bits of emotional junk that would be much better off in the damned green book.
But if I set myself down in front of that book, without the... disembodiment of the computer screen? I'll get perilously close to breaking down completely.
And I can't afford to do that.
It's a hard and tight line I'm going to have to walk the next week at least. I have to - know that I have to, and even believe that I have to - deal with this now, rather than push it aside to plague me for unforseen units of time ahead. I've done that before with lesser things, and it was hell when it came back up. I'm not sure how well I could functionally handle being blindsided by "dealing" with this a second, third, or fourth time beyond what will no doubt occur anyway.
But at the same time, I have to keep a handle on it, at least initially. I can't break down at work, but I also can't let me throw myself into work too totally; I will end up flat on my back sick if I let myself do that - I work close enough to too hard as it is, throwing myself into the job as distraction would honestly be dangerous.
And beyond that, my job gives me too much time to think.
I suppose that I sound like a whiny little high-school brat. I'm too tired to be sorry about that now - this is another entry that might be edited or deleted once I've had the chance to recover myself a little, and think more clearly.
To be fair, another motivation in wanting to work through as much of this soon as I can is a morbid curiosity. Now, while I'm hurting (or rather, while I'm tired, empty and hollow, waiting for the pain to hit me full-throttle), I'm also still very aware of being in love with her. I'm strangely curious to see if that changes once I've gotten through the initial (roughest) phase of having to let go, and of having to deal with what I'm feeling.
*frowns* And I suppose it's all made that much harder by the fact that I'm only letting go because I know it's what I need to do. It's what I have to do. It's not what I want to do. A very vocal part of me is protesting whenever it can, insisting that I don't care how it might make me seem, that I need to hold on to this tooth and nail.
And if I honestly could believe that there would ultimately be a good result to come of that, it's possible that I'd be going with a lot more of a fight than I am.
But she's become so important to me, as a person, that I cannot risk losing her friendship.
It's funny, and maybe it's because it's too soon to be trying to disect this in conversation (not, mind you, that disection is something that should be happening at all, I'm sure, but you know I can't help but trying to understand), but I wonder if we're understanding each other as well as we had been initially.
Either that, or I'm too blind to see some things. Which is not only possible, but probable.
*shakes head* I've comitted some cardinal sins, in a sense. I've gone against what might have been my better judgement, I've essentially done several things I swore - or at least believed - I'd never do. And I've gotten myself a set of third-degree burns over it.
But burns heal, lessons are learned (though in this case, the initial lesson seems to be a reinforcement of my long-held belief that I am somehow not allowed by the universe to get what I want) even if they're being learned the hard way.
And I can still say with complete honesty that - at this point - I would do it all again tomorrow if the chance was given me.
I've spent two months - two months plus, really - happy. And given the reactions other people have had, even moreso than my own understanding, that's something unusual and amazing for me.
It went against my better judgement to let myself jump into anything in the first place. I have a healthy fear of being hurt - probably an unhealthy one, to be honest. But some things are worth the risk - and even the certainty - of pain. And this has been one of them.
There's another country song, and maybe I wish this one was earwormed for me right now. For all it's depressing, it does capture a lot of my feelings at the moment. I can't remember the artist, but the title (so far as I can recall) is "I Would've Loved You Anyway." Essentially the subject is knowing that a relationship has been so worth the eventual price, that you would've set yourself up to pay that price, even if you'd known with 100% certainty at the start that it was what awaited you.
I'd still be more than willing to try, willing to struggle on. But it's no use being the only one fighting for something, all you do is exhaust yourself, and hurt both of you more in the long run.
I'm going to let go of this, because I have to.
And while I say with complete honesty now that if she changed her mind tomorrow, next week, a month from now, or whenever, I would jump back in with both feet? I'm also already trying to get to the point where I can accept the fact that that isn't probably going to happen. I know how outlandish and irrational a hope it is. And I accept that it's not something remotely likely to happen.
That doesn't stop me from wishing that it would, even when I already know it isn't something I can hope for.
And it doesn't stop me from missing her already.
And it doesn't stop me from still loving her.
I think it might be a nasty uphill road, dealing with this.
But I won't know that for certain until the pain finally hits home.
And the longer it takes, the more I'll worry. Because a longer delay either means that it's worse, or that it will lay in wait to surprise me farther on down the road.
I have to go and try to sleep now, I think.
Not that I'll manage much, but any bit I can get will help me not to look like an absolute fool tomorrow.
previous howl
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Murrrrrrffff? - 2005-01-04
A Late Review - 2004-09-12
Weekend Update - 2004-08-08
Intermission - 2004-08-07
Rambling or something. - 2004-07-31
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