As unpredictable as I may be at times, I haven't felt this weird and subtly agitated since high school. I'm particular in a vague sort of way which is confusing at best. I wanted to find a quiet and secluded space isolated from the energy and presence of others because I wanted to be alone with my thoughts and my energy. Sometimes with the mass income of premonitions, the feelings of others and the way energy changes before something alters or when the universe is preparing for something entirely new occurs I find myself spinning in a world of possibilities fusing with this reality. I don't quite feel like I lose myself, but I can trick myself into believing that I could.
That's not how I feel right now, but I just want to be alone with my thoughts and my energy without outside, otherworldly invasions. I can't believe I used to be so frightened by my own thoughts and would do anything and everything I can to distract myself from them. Now all I want is to evict any thoughts I don't harness myself. I guess the grass is always greener on the other side. It's not so bad here.
I'd just like a break is all. Just for a little bit. Please. Every isolated space I find makes me feel confined. It's not just the size and space of the table, the chair, the corner of the wall it's facing. It's also how I feel like my energy doesn't expand. The amount it grows and explores and evolves is limited to a small box it all of a sudden places itself in. Well, that's not very appealing.
Of course, the open space is crawling with people. What is it that I want today? Why am I so irritated right now? I was like this when I was used to have my own space and got easily aggravated when that was compromised. I have four roommates now. I forgot what it was like to want to be alone. That's probably because I haven't wanted this in so long.
There's something about realizing how you feel and how damaging it is that you kept something so huge from yourself that makes you want to ask more questions and see what else is there. It reassures me about the decision I made, to want to be a whole person first before pursuing a relationship. I'm not against a relationship right now and if it finds me, I won't turn my back on it. But I'm not going to chase after it or build one, not right now.
I do miss the connection and bond in a relationship but not any relationship, the kind that makes your heart skip, the calmness that washes over you as you know this is where you want to be and deep down you know it's mutual, the willingness to tolerate a person's flaws because he's worth it, to see the worst in him with open eyes without a blink because you accept it, to enjoy the conversations where you learn more about each other and yourself while not being surprised at the same time because you're that connected, that kind of relationship where you could be doing anything and it's interesting because of how the two of you are together. That's what I miss, but I'm not desperate for it. I'm not lonely and aching because I don't have it. I can wait for it, and I think I should.
I fell in love and completely didn't get the memo. The fax machine was a toaster, the note failed to deliver, was re-routed where it was translated into text that was invisible and in a foreign language only accessible in another atmosphere, the notice disintegrated, and any echoes of it has been suppressed. I missed out. And I know it sounds dumb, but I feel like I have a lot of catching up to do. I get it. It's over. He's gone. Out of my life. Out of my reach. Out of my touch. Out of my reality. It's as though he was never here.
There are no pictures of him I can look at. I don't have a souvenir from anywhere. There are no casual pleasantries. Only memories. That's it. I don't want to forget about them, nor do I plan to continue the relationship in my mind. But I want to know what it was like, what I was thinking, what I was feeling, how it felt, why it makes me feel the way I feel now. I missed out while it was happening. Jumping into another relationship is like making the emptiness an official unexploration.
It's bad enough that I wasn't aware I was in love and that I denied it. I don't want to look back years later and say "Yeah I was in love. But I don't remember what it was like because by the time I found out so much time had passed. By then I jumped onto the next relationship that I strategized." Depending on how that works out, I might be able to say, "but I know what it's like to be in love the second time and be aware of it" unless I make the same mistake again... Let's hope not. Then again, the next guy deserves to be with a better version of me who works through her problems, so she won't make that same mistake again. No more hoping but progress and a new evolved me, the kind of person a guy deserves.