This has been the longest week EVER.
I know it’s Monday, but the last few days have been excruciatingly long.
But as a side note:
I love DANIEL MARK PAOLUCCI!
I don’t care if this is cliche, but he has been my rock, my anchor, for the better part of the last seven years. I used to have feelings for him that were not merely platonic, and he remained my friend even though my last boyfriend tried to force me to stop talking to him. For sticking by me, especially when I burned him so badly, I am eternally grateful.
I was so dumb for letting a guy get between me and a best friend. Never again.
Despite being miles apart, we’re still in sync. It’s beautiful. He has a beautiful soul.
But I digress.
It’s been a long week. I really feel like just burying my head into the sand and remaining there until my gusto returns.
My insides ache with worry at times, though I probably have nothing to fret about. I just care a lot. Back in high school people used to tell me that I cared too much. I suppose it is true. I worry about people sometimes to the point that I feel it physically, as well as mentally and emotionally. However, it is my choice to carry their burdens along side them. I absolutely refuse to give up on people, which gets me in trouble often. A prime example is my mother. For a very long time I refused to give up on the traditional idea of how a family should be, how a mother should behave. I agonized over it. I wished for it with every ounce of faith in my heart, but ultimately I had to learn that people cannot be controlled. They cannot be expected to act the way you would like. And they won’t change unless they wish that change for themselves.
During high school I missed having my mom around. I never really admitted it to anyone back then, but those were probably the years I needed female guidance the most. I sought and found this guidance elsewhere, but it still wasn’t the same as having my mom teach me things.
Of course, if I ever decide to have children, I would try to be there for them the way I always wanted my mom to be. There are certain things a child should not grow up without; and a mother and father are on the top of that list.
David and I watched very rare footage of a snow leopard hunting a goat. It was magnificent. It is such a beautiful creature. It is my favorite animal. Snow leopards are elusive and mysterious. I always enjoyed their mystery and solitude because I often felt myself to be fairly alone and mysterious. Although I was considered a “brilliant” student in high school, most teachers would say that I was, and perhaps still am, an enigma to them. I have never really let anyone plumb the depths of my being, but I am learning to allow that to happen. It is not that I am afraid to have someone know the real me; I have merely conditioned myself to be self-sufficient. I have grown into a severely self-contained individual. I loathe hysterics and melodrama, and I refrain from indulging my base instinct to cry.
I know that sounds a tad severe, but crying never felt good to me. It never felt like a release. Crying always made me feel weak, and thereby made me ashamed.
For some reason I am reminded of a dream I had about Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic. It’s probably one of my favorite RPGs. I was planet-hopping. I visited Mandalore, Tatooine, Kashyyk, etc. I don’t know if I’m spelling these right, but at the moment I am not too concerned. I was a Sith Lord and I was basically just murdering anyone in my path. It was fun.
Well, I am now too sleepy to continue on with this muddled tirade.
I will close with this:
Despite the trivial matters that bring me down at times, all things considered, I am happier than I have ever been before. I am myself again, and I have people who love me. Life can’t get any better than that.