what are you afraid of? when all the years fall away
i know i shouldnt be blogging right now but it seems that the only time i ever have the compulsion to blog anymore is when i know i should be doing something else. and since i direly miss blogging i will act on the impulse and screw my homeowrk as it somehow equates in my mind as more important.
so the big issues to bring up are as follows, beginning with the fact that large crowds are not my friend, soemthing i did not fully realize until homecoming weekend. they semi-frighten but more than anything depress me. i wish i could know what this stems from, and upon thought im sure i could figure it out only in my recent living style of sparse time and ever sparcer thought i really cant afford to ponder over this. wait. i take that all back, i just remembered, i already realized what it is… here is goes
being in a large crowd can be fun, theres a sort of elecrtical current that seems to run through everyone there accounting for the insistant buzzing noise that ever prevades football games, dances, parades, fares, ect. but if im not there with anyone, if im more or less on my own (and even sometimes when i am with people) i guess i just become overwhelmed. hearing that noise, the noise of other people living out happily blissful lives becomes near maddening. so much to the point where i can no longer hear myself inside my own head. a silly thought but it scares me, am i even here? if I cant hear myself, can anyone else? and then it comes, the only solution. i want to scream. but iwth this solution i know i might pay a terrible price, see if i ever were to just start screaming as i so feel compelled to there is a real fear that terrifies me. i think if i ever started to scream, i wouldnt be able to stop. id scream. scream until my face lost color, scream until my voice ran hoarse, scream until tears streamed from my eyes and my knees buckled in exhausten, and kneeling before some unknown yet horrifying god i would continue to scream. scream and scream and scream until nothing else filled my ears, until the electiric buzz faded, until all the faces lost shape and color and there was no one but me left. it might not even be that bad, i honestly dont know. what i do know, and i guess what scares me most of all about large crowds, is that if i ever did scream, regardless of whether i stopped or not- no one would even look up. no one would hear, no one wonders where its coming from, who could voice such a hideous sound, why they scream, or how so much can be meant in that one toneless note of desperation. no one would wonder any of these things. no one would hear. no one could hear because i was never screaming to begin with. just in my head, like always. i guess thats why i hate crowds.
when i imagined a life partner, i guess i always assumed theyd be there for me when i needed rescuing. that may sound like a lot, but i really dont think it is. in my defence, i hardly ever need rescuing. justin knows my feminazi, independent woman feelings. i can take care of myself, there are hardly any situations taht i can solve myself, i can pcik myself up when im down becasue no one ever offered to in the past and now its simply second nature. despite this hwoever, i still neeed help with the crowds. i just cant do it; the best i can manage is to run away. itll wear on me for a few hours later even, eventually ill recover but ive in no way overcome them. its still the same. just latent i suppose, waiting for the next time jump on easy prey. i really wouldnt mind be rescued from a crowd someday. hell, there will cme the day when i need to be rescued form the crowd, i jjust hope someone is around by that time.
this crowd thing is what sparked my bad weekend. back to being in a relationship, i figured teh guy i was with would rescue me from crowds. justin didnt go to the dance. as should have been guessed, my night in shinning armor had a “be back in 15 minutes” sign tacked to his noble steed. maybe im wrong, i dunno. i didnt realize how much i wanted him there until i was there by myself and feeling more soaked than ever in teh crowd, like your drowning; drowning in an electrical current, fiiting aynways. well he asked me if i wanted him to go, i asked him if he wanted to go, he said dances werent really his thing. i said i might be working during a lot of it and i didnt want him to force him to go to something he didnt want to go to. that was the last we talked about it and he didnt go. i never wanted to be, and i still dotn want to be the type of chick who just leaves stupid hints and doesnt freaking say waht she wants. but it woulda been real nice had he just gone. i dont feel too bad about doing the stupid girl thing and only leaving hints becasue when describing this scenario to others they usually say soemthing along the lines of “what a [insert obscenity], of course he shoulda gone” thats usualyl followed by how i obviously meant yes or how once you have a gf you are obligated NO MATTER WHAT to take her to all the dances, especially since she has to be there. i dont blame him for not going, if it was that important to me, i shoulda said yes, go damnit. but in the end, i dont wanna have to force him to go, i woulda prefered had he just wanted to go himself because he knew id be there; because he could see me get all dressed up and take me out and have a semi good time even though dances usually suck. but that just wasnt how it went down. in the end, lo que sea, right?
then came the infamous sunday dinner. so many things about this went wrong. for starters, talk about a freaking long hard week. i was exhausted. completely spent. but i wanted to make him a steak dinner becasue friday was our three month anniversary. (intervals of three are suppose to be important =P) friday came with no mention of it, but there was so much to do. i didnt even notice. but still the week before i had to switch work schedules with emily just to make it work out so i could make him this dinner. that also meant. stay up till two am on sat, get some sleep then go straight to work, then come home, immediately start on dinner, then rush to church where he is to give it to him. okay, i dont wanna seem like a bitch who takes this outta context. i can take a joke, think i do so very well most of the time. and there is a joking attitude that you can use to mock a dinner someone made for you; but there is also a half joking half telling the harsh truth attitude you can take. in my eyes, justin took the latter. maybe its cuz it had been a bad weekend and i was still recovering frm large crowd depression, i dunno but this list of things really got to me. i got there, and i was pretty proud of myself. i thoguht i did a good job, and i was really looking forward to giving this to him. why? well he use to get so happy when i did things like make him and the band brownies, i was sure this was gonna way top that. plus, i wanted to start showing him i cared more. i dunno, i had started to question whether he realized what he meant to me, so i figured, come on, a steak dinner? i wouldnt do that for just anyone…
…but when i got there
“waht took you so long?” this is a joke, im sure, i laugh and give it to him. facial expressions are everytihng, i got a quizical look. and no mention at all that it was a s-t-e-a-k d-i-n-n-e-r. he holds up the pudding “…its hot…” *swirls it* *makes another quizical expression* “and has a weird consistency…” now in my family we eat pudding hot, it think it just tastes a lot better, infact, it was actaully hard keeping it hot and not cooling, but apparently a wrong move on my part. so this is the first let down. actaully the first is that he made no intial menion, notice, or gratitue at having gone to such lengths as opposed to the usual pb and j sandwich i make him. so i take it inside. he pulls the premade plate outta the the brownie pan, (in there because the steak juice drips, obviously) so he takes it out, unwraps the plastic, a few drops spill on the table. reaction. “ugh, its leaking…” ever have that sinking feelin in the pit of your stomach from disappointment, semi-shame, and embrassment? yeah, this was the onset of that. well then he pulls out the bread, adam swipes a piece and justin yells at him saying thats one of the best parts, so in my mind im slightly releaved that ive doen something right, at least getting real break vs. rolls was a good idea. that is until…. he takes a bite of it. screw quizical look now its a look of when you eat something you thought was gonna be good only it turns out not and youve got that sorta shocked, let down, and eeeew look on your face. “is this sourdough bread?” “um…yeah” “oh, i hate sourdough” …what can i say, sourdough bread is my favorite and its all we had in our house… then he takes the first bite of the steak. now i want you to imagine the most sacrastic yum sound you can imagine, with a good amount of a joking air to it, but just as much of a plain sacrastic biting air too. then more of that horrible sinking feeling. infact, i dont think my stomach can sink much more. then the only thing that migh have made the dinner semi-acceptable in his eyes is that one piece, the piece you know is going to be the best. the one with the most seasoning and just the right amount of fat, adam eats. justin flips out calling it the best part. sianara (sp?) chance at a good dinner. i think in the end he said its the effort that counts. watching him try to force down hot pudding was rather painful to. end the sunday dinner fiasco.
actaully it didnt end there. when i said it got me down, it really got me down. got me thinking anyways. it made me so angry, angry becasue between the two of us, i think im the only one who constantly tries to show that i care, who just constantly tries. for a while there he use to draw me pictures, that stopped a week or so after getting back from latvial. he use to bring me tea, now he doesnt. i dont do huge things, but i make the effort. i make an effort to be intereseted in everything he is, including transformers and dragon ball z (which by the way, really isnt bad and fairly amusing) i alwas listen to his music even though im a little eh on some of it, and i try not to get affended/annoyed when he critisizez have the stuff i listen to (never makes an effort to like it or at least endure it). i buy im fruit snacks all the time, dragon ball z cards, front him money a good amount of the time, take him ice skating, made him a get well card when he was sick, made him a penguin once, bring tea to him after band practice. oh yeah, drive him everywhere, make brownies for this chuch band, brign cookies to him, bring dinner to him wherever hes at whenver he asks, and whenver i go into my bag and i realize im about to eat the last stick of gum, i rip it in half incase he asks before i can buy a new pack. its just that he use to be so sweet. i dont mind that we are always giving each other a hard time in a joking way now, in fact i love it, but it woud be rather reassuring to have him be sweet once every couple of weeks or so. what really hurts the most i guess, is that he doesnt want to. its not like its just not in his nature to play the sweet doing cute things type, its that he doesnt want to. i know frm his relationship with pam taht he was always trying, always showing he cared, always working to make their relationship better. he just doesnt want to do that for us. im just not important enough to him. i think we both thought that he wouldnt hold back in this next relationship, in our relationship, that he would strive for the same thing maybe something even better. but we were wrong. maybe in the future he will, but he just isnt in this. but heres the worst part; i made the dinner to show i cared and i evidently failed at that. it really meant little to nothing to him, he didnt get that i did it cuz i cared, and its no ones fault but my own.
i was depressed the rest of that night, the most depressed ive ever been around him, the most depresseed ive been since ive been seeing him. aimee noticed at the dance, sarah noticed at church, he either never noticed, or just didnt care. either way it makes me feel crummy, especailly since most ppl i talk to always say hes really intune to how ppl are feeling and can usually tell if somethigns wrong. either i mean so little that he for once couldnt pick up on someone hurting or he did and just didnt wanna deal with it. in the end, i do waht i always do and made myself get over it, whats the use in crying over milk that you spent and hour cooking and nobody liked?
later that night, he uh, “thanked me” for the dinner, needless to say, he didnt find the key. but it wasnt what i wanted. i didnt want something physical, and i hope he didnt think that i did. i wanted somehting genuine, heartfelt. a sincere “thanks” would have made my whole week.
i soemtimes worry he only sticks around because of the physical action. with me hes just comfortable, enough to where he doesnt wanna lose a decent thing, the physical aspect is waht i think makes him stick around. i hate what ive become in the last year, last 6 months anyway. i use to be more, i dunno how i lost that, maybe i never had it; either way, i worry i’ll never be anythign more to anyone.
on a more positive note, ive been feeling a lot more attached to him lately. i miss him when i dont see him and the best parts of my day are with him. but still i wonder if its enough, for how long. i know im gonna be the one hurt in the end, but im just too dumb to do a thing about it.
what do you know, i gotta get going, gonna pick him up form band. its so stupid to be excited to see him, so dumb on my part, but even when i realize htis is going no where and he just doesnt feel the same way im feeling about him, i wanna see him. tis my downfall
goodnight
