"It is not a lack of love, but a lack of friendship that makes unhappy marriages."— Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche
I feel the same can be said about relationships in general because even if you do "love" someone, you can still be unhappy in love. Maybe that's why someone who loves their friend as more than a friend find themselves in content in their friendship even though they sometimes feel that they want to be more than friends. Run on sentence much? Whatever.
In this morning's dream, I was taking care of an elderly woman. On our way inside a bookstore, we meet an author who just recently published a book. Upon seeing her, the elderly woman scowls and insists on going inside the store. After bringing her inside, I rush back outside to ask the author to sign my copy of her book. Instead of signing it with a signature, she draws a picture with her black felt pen and the picture becomes a moving picture in vivid color - almost like a little film.
After signing it she says to me, "You saw it too, huh? It's funny that I should draw this picture for you. It's what I saw before I began writing my book. All you need is a little inspiration."
Feeling a little tripped out, I walk back inside the store to find the woman I was taking care of. My supervisor yells at me for not staying with her and tells me to take her to her room. After taking her to her room, I come back downstairs where several little children are putting on a play for the people in the library. Their play was really a ritual, but to carry it out, a life had to be forfeit. It was between the dog or the baby who (coincidentally) shared the same room with the elderly woman. After realizing this, I rushed to my feet yelling for someone to pass me a stethoscope to hear the dog's heart with and a phone to call emergency in case of a death.
It turns out the kids couldn't finish performing the ritual. The dog was alive. The baby was alive. All was good.
Still in my dream, I'm wondering why my alarm didn't go off. I figured I should wake up and check the time so I wouldn't be late for work. I wake myself up, look at the time on my cellphone and jump out of bed.
"Shit," I say to myself. "I'm late!"
"I am enough of an artist to draw freely upon my imagination. Imagination is more important than knowledge. Knowledge is limited. Imagination encircles the world."
I wish I didn't have to, but I wasn't given a choice.
---
Churros are delicious. I'd have preferred it if they had been freshly made, but I'm not complaining. They definitely satisfy my sweet tooth in a way ice cream never will.
Now that I've moved back into my room (which, by the way, is still disorderly but getting better), I've been feeling like adding to the bare walls, to unpacking the final box and really just claiming it as my own. After all, most of the time I spend at home is spent in those four walls.
Something extraordinary happened today. My mother finally began acting like a mother towards me again.
During the car ride home, she asked me how he-who-will-remain-anonymous and I were doing. I don't know if her words were out of curiosity or empathy, but the sentiment of her gesture meant a lot to me - even if she did take part in the break up. I think she was trying to comfort me - something she hasn't done in years.
"He only said that to you because he cares," she says. "She's probably just temporary. Maybe he's waiting for you. Maybe he'll come back to you when you're more mature and graduated from university because you're still young. You can never forget your first love. I know you still care about him. Pick up the phone when he calls, it's okay to talk to him. After all, since he's calling you, it means he wants to talk to you."
CLICK: Another Unkept Secret
That's not what she was saying 6 months ago. She's humming a different tune. Maybe she's finally starting to learn how much I care about him, but it's too little too late because it doesn't matter anymore.
As for the "You never forget your first love" deal, I wouldn't hold my breath and call what we had love. It's the rose that did not bloom because it's died before it could.
Although she was trying to instill some kind of hope in me, it was a fail. All hope vanished on Thursday April 24, 2009.
It could have been because we were actually having one of those "mother-daughter" moments I thought she wasn't capable of. It could have been because there's a fragment of me that still misses him. It could have been both. Whatever the reason, I began to cry in front of her. I let my guard down. And for the first time in a while, I felt human again.
"The human heart is a strange vessel. Love and hatred can exist side by side."
I'd just like to state the following fact:
I am not an alcoholic.
Sure, my last post makes me appear as one, but I assure you I am not. I'm just a woman who enjoys my occasional beer, cocktail, wine and spirits - and surely there is nothing wrong with that. If you think otherwise, you can take that issue up with my dear friend, Gonzo.
Alcohol does wonders. In excess, you vomit and suffer the joys of a hangover. In moderation, you're induced to a state of bliss - at least I am! I still remember every detail of every night I've drank, but the beautiful thing about alcohol is that it helps me forget the details I don't want in my memory.
No, you don't need alcohol to have a good time. When it comes to drinking, you always have the option of refusal. It's your choice, really.
Happy drinking! Cheers!
CLICK: Another Unkept Secret
The picture I used for this post is the alcohol Robbie B. bought J. Dean for his twentieth birthday. No, we didn't finish it. ^_^
P.S. Alcoholics aren't bad people as long as they're not beating you or endangering anyone's life. I know a few, and they are some of the coolest people I know.
"You're going to come across people in your life who will say all the right words at all the right times. But in the end, it's always their actions you should judge them by. It's actions, not words, that matter."
Reading this makes me feel a little bit better. Words can mean little to nothing unless one's actions back them up. I need to keep that in mind. Always. Maybe it'll make letting go a little easier to do.
Half a bottle of Hypnotiq, three shots of Grey Goose Vodka, a bottle of Smirnoff Ice, a Polar Bear, three Irish Carbombs, and a pint of Creemore beer win you a trip over someone's foot, bruised legs, a shattered glass on the floor, a deep cut in your now bloody right hand, two bandages, a trip to the hospital from your bestfriend's boyfriend, three hours in the ER, five stitches, an angry father, and work in four hours.
I was more upset that I had to leave than the fact that I got a cut. Over the week, I became more upset that I had to miss a day of work because my hand was still in pain. [I use that word a lot, don't I? Pain.]
Want to see colored photos? Follow the link.
CLICK: Another Unkept Secret
1. Taken several hours after having gotten the stitches. You can still see the blood on my hand.
2. Taken Friday May 7th, 2009. No more blood, but still in the healing process.
No I wasn't drunk. I just had a very, VERY good buzz going on... until it was killed by that shard of glass.
I find that mending a broken heart is similar to healing the hand on which you've received stitches after a drunk night out with your friends. Let me tell you how...
Your hand hurts like a bitch. Even the simple action of making a fist causes pain, but you know that the pain is something you must endure if you want to get the strength back in your muscles. Close. Pain. Open. Pain. You persevere and the pain becomes almost like second nature. You begin not to feel it until one day, even though your hand is still healing, it's able to function as if the cut and five stitches aren't even there.
Your heart hurts like a bitch. Even the simple action of seeing him again (or even hearing his voice over the phone) causes pain, but you know that the pain is something you must endure if you want to love again. No communication. Pain. Random phone call. Pain. You persevere and the pain becomes almost like second nature. You begin not to feel it until one day, even though your heart is scarred, it's able to love as if it had never been broken.
I'm in a parking garage. It was someone's birthday - I forget who. I was hanging out with Macoy and Thilak waiting for Lomboy to bring the presents. When she arrived, she brought three presents - one of which she wrapped in paper mache and painted it so that it looked like a fire truck. Out of nowhere, there were a bunch of blue helium filled balloons I had to tie to the railing so that they wouldn't fly away. I remember thinking that the yellow ribbon I had used clashed with balloons in terms of color.
It begins to rain. Amanda, Hannah and I are under a shared blanket watching television while waiting for the rain to stop. In comes Pat.
"I don't like your blog," he tells me. "I can't believe you mentioned ______ like that. Now people are going to start googling her."
"It's okay, I didn't mention her by name. Don't worry. And thanks for the critique."
As the rain continues to fall over my head, so does a state of melancholy. I felt very sad without reason and Amanda was there comforting me. She walked me to the washroom to freshen up where I began trying on a wedding dress. Two wedding dresses. The first one looked like it was from a Pronovias collection. Beautiful. The second was given to me by an old lady who wore the dress to her wedding. It was lacy and had a pink hue to it. I wasn't really a fan - mainly because of the pink hue and the fact that it made me look fat.
After changing back into my regular clothes, I enter another room to find myself standing face to face with a "friend". There were two of him. The first looked just how I remembered him before I began crying myself to sleep at night. He stood there wearing that smile of his I always loved seeing him in. The second version of him was thinner and more unkempt. I didn't know the second one.
"I'm sorry," he says. "I didn't mean to put you through what I did. There was just so much going on. I thought if I moved on with her, it would help me forget you. I don't know what I'm doing anymore. Please forgive me... I need you...I want to be with you."
I took him into my arms and he held me in his. I whispered forgiveness in his ear and kissed him softly on the cheek. I began to cry as I remembered all the times he made me smile and laugh. "I'll always be here for you, but I can't take you back. I'm sorry." With that said, I let him go.
I walked around, tears streaming down my face, looking for something to drink. I didn't find anything, but I did find Gonzo. He knows where the drinks are. He always does! We walked to the bar at Riva and he ordered two pints of Kronenbourg 1664. We sat down at one of the tables as I began drinking away the hurt in my soul.
Afterwards, I went outside and planted my bare feet in snow. A child playing on the street asked me if I felt cold at all. "No, I don't feel anything," I told him.
CLICK: Another Unkept Secret
I do not know why "two" seems to be a recurring theme.
It's strange how the latter part of the dream resembles the events that took place last Friday. No, he-who-will-remain-anonymous did not say those things to me, but after seeing him I needed a drink and so I quickly left the lounge. I couldn't quite handle seeing them together. Not yet, anyway. That same night, although it was his birthday, Gonzo was nice enough to buy me a pint.
The more I think about it, I think seeing two wedding dresses and two of he-who-will-remain-anonymous is symbolic of the past and the present. There is the current dress and the vintage dress. There is the person I knew so well and the person I barely know. Why am I seeing each in the same dream? I don't know. I do know that at one point in time, I did want to marry him - but that ship has sailed and is nearing the horizon.
"Something old, something new. Something borrowed, something blue." All present.
"I believe that everything happens for a reason. People change so that you can learn to let go, things go wrong so that you appreciate them when they're right, you believe lies so you eventually learn to trust no one but yourself, and sometimes good things fall apart so better things can fall together."
I bought two dresses today. Two of the same dress. Two different colors. And what for? After this terrible ordeal, even my money doesn't want to stay with me. It keeps looking for excuses to leave.
Last night while on updating my blog and reviewing Facebook, I was unknowingly picking at a tiny scab on my left knee. I usually don't pick at my scabs because the skin often becomes discolored. Now I'm kicking myself in the foot every time I see that abnormal, light patch of skin!
Today, at Rogers, I noticed that when it comes to purchasing a cellphone, my father is hopeless. Then again, I am too. Merde. It's genetic.
"Let's go to Coles!" said Gladjieh as we were perusing around the mall trying to kill time. While looking around the tiny bookstore, I found the Harlequin Romance novel that features a friend of a friend of mine on the cover. I remember Del Re mentioning she was on a cover of one of the novels of said series when we were at Chapters shopping for her birthday gift. He spoke of her often when revisiting memories of drunken nights that he somehow managed to remember. I've met her a couple of times and though I may not know her very well, I do know that she's a beautiful person - on both the inside and out.
* Try this out on Facebook: ↑ ↑ ↓ ↓ ← → ← → B A ENTER
Just push the corresponding keys when you're on your homepage and click around. Happy clicking!
My internal clock is officially messed up. I'll be wanting to shoot myself in the foot later on in the morning when I force myself to wake up for work. It really is too bad because I love sleeping and I love to dream.
...To die: to sleep;
No more; and by a sleep to say we end
The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep;
To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub;
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause: there's the respect
That makes calamity of so long life...
"The weak can never forgive. Forgiveness is the attribute of the strong."
We shared a beautiful winter together. December has always been good to me. Somewhere along the lines of our ill-fated relationship, we both became unhappy in our own ways. I wasn't what you needed, nor could I be. Everything we had ignored for so long had finally caught up with us.
I'll admit that being so quickly replaced felt like a slap in the face. I thought that if I lied to myself, it would ease the pain of the discovery. It didn't. As soon as I pushed the end button on the phone, I knew it was more than just the end to our conversation. I began to sob uncontrollably as you placed the finishing touch on my broken heart. I didn't sleep that night. How could I? I resolved that the only way I could begin healing was to remove you from my life until I was well enough to allow you back in.
As much as I'm hurting, I know the hurt isn't here to stay. Right now, I may be a bit bitter, but I'm not cold. Though it may not have been your intention to hurt me, the pains I have suffered by your actions do not diminish how much I still care about you. That is why I want you to be happy. Not because "I'm happy if you're happy," but because you deserve happiness, and so do I.
We'll be friends. Someday.
It was cold that night. You kept me warm.
You and I. We were close. So close.
The days grew colder. As did you heart.
And we became distant.
So distant.
Edit: I'm not yet satisfied with this, therefore, it is not quite finished. I don't know if I'll ever finish this one. There's something extremely lacking in the form. My emotions do this no good.
"Here's to the crazy ones. The misfits. The rebels. The troublemakers. The round pegs in the square hole. The ones who see things differently. They're not fond of rules. And they have no respect for the status quo. You can quote them, disagree with them, glorify or vilify them. About the only thing you can't do is ignore them. Because they change things. They push the human race forward. And while some may see them as the crazy ones, we see genius. Because the people who are crazy enough to think they can change the world, are the ones who do."
I dreamt I was at work. A customer comes in and asks me for a scoop of Mocha Double Double on a regular cone. I hand him his ice cream. At that moment, I realize that I forgot to place the signature chocolate on top. He holds his ice cream out for me, and on goes the chocolate. "Thank you," he says, "what a big scoop!" and proceeds to turn the cone upside down to eat the cone first. It's not a DQ Blizzard. The ice cream falls on the floor. What a douche bag.
As I'm cleaning the spilt ice cream off of the floor, a band comes into the store and begins setting up. I hear them rehearsing Hit Me With Your Best Shot by Pat Benatar. I look up and I see Ryan Seacrest telling me to remind the camera men to record continuously because the song is filled with a lot of positive messages about staying in school. The song begins. A girl with blonde hair and pink highlights (she pretty much looked like Avril Lavigne) takes the microphone and she sounds just like Hayley Williams from Paramore making me wish my voice could be just as powerful.
There are times when life calls out for a change. A transition. Like the seasons. Our spring was wonderful, but summer is over now and we missed out on autumn. And now all of a sudden, it's cold, so cold that everything is freezing over. Our love fell asleep, and the snow took it by surprise. But if you fall asleep in the snow, you don't feel death coming. Take care.
1. Heaven - Bitter:Sweet
2. Betcha'll Never Find - Chantay Savage
3. This Time - John Legen
4. Sometimes - Erykah Badu
5. Blindness - Metric
6. Let It Go - Fauxliage
7. You Oughta Know - Alanis Morissette
8. Young Folks - Peter Bjorn & John
