Wednesday, January 25, 2012


I'm not sure if its my own foolishness or your previous constancy that has allowed so many of my thoughts to turn to you. I know in my head that it is wise to let you go. But my heart is stubborn. Oh I'll pretend that I'm making progress but only because I know no one wants to hear about it. But you still bring a tear to my eye and sharp pain to my chest. Its foolish. But I've been foolish before and undoubtably will be foolish again.
Is it weird that part of me feels like I might run into you again? (And not in the 'you and your crew pretending I'm invisible' way, which has already happened and I didn't particularly care for.)
I keep thinking about travelling to France and serendipitously running into you. Which is highly unlikely; Even in my imagination.
I guess its just me not wanting to be done. Despite the rightness of that decision.
It was right, wasn't it?
Its funny because so often I just want to tell you things; Silly, little things of no consequence. Things I know you would understand or appreciate. But whereas I was brave once before, I can no longer be brave. That time has passed. But I have typed out the words and been on the precipice of sending them when reason came flooding back in. I deleted your number to prevent such weakness.
I know wishing is a waste of time. But I honestly wish things could have been different. Which is probably more a selfish wish than one with your best interest at heart. Because I am worn down and tired.
I was thinking about the number of times that I've been broken hearted. Sure I've been hurt far more times than that small number. I tend to take any form of rejection hard. But it takes more than just a break up to count as a heart break for me. It takes my future hope. And not just anyone can elicit that from me.
I know that you will find someone else. And they'll probably be perfect for you in a hundred different ways that I was not. And even though this fact doesn't make me sad per say, I'm not sure I'll ever really get rid of the unconscious sigh your name brings. At least I haven't yet for the others.
In Guatemala, I laid in the muggy air, in a bed that was questionably clean, under a mosquito net I had tucked close to the bed out of fear for the gigantic tarantula seen in a tree house nearby. The days were busy with patients. I was tired and a little grumpy. I felt like a bonafide dentist in moments and an utter wreck in others. But my skills seemed enough and gave me hope to make it out of dental school alive. And despite a certain excitement and contentedness from a trip that could only be called a success, I cried as quietly as I could, while my friend slept across the room. Tired, cold and sad.
Traveling and you are somehow entwined. And you kept popping up at unexpected moments on my trip. I want to hate travelling because you think it makes people better and more complete than those who love their home and their own people. And I want to hate reading. And I want to hate that I value good educations. And I want to shake you. Truly I do. But I'm not sure I'm doing either.
I'm too sentimental. I know this.
And written down on paper, it doesn't look like there is anything to be sentimental of. But somehow my twisted brain has found it.
I feel like a wreck. Like I haven't been sound since you. Which isn't really because of you. There is so much on my plate right now and somehow I managed to ignore that until just recently. I'm frightened of the future, if I were being honest. And I just want to talk to you about the things that are upsetting me. You got me to trust that I could say anything to you, and even with differing opinions it would be ok. But it isn't. And now I'm left missing that openness. Maybe thats what I actually am missing. Not you but the availability of someone with whom I could voice the thoughts I usually do not dare to utter to another person. And like a hypocrite, I try to fill the void you have left, even though I looked down upon you for doing pretty much the same. But I'm too cognizant to feel anything but guilt because I think deep down, I know thats not right either, even though I'm still going to debate it.
Turns out I'm still upset. And the only person I want to talk to about it is you. Turns out everyone telling me to just get over it and how weird you are and how little you matter and how much they disliked you to begin with and how much better off I am now hasn't helped. But the ebb and flow of my emotions allows me to forget about it sometimes. To express it and then to be ok.
You'd think by now I'd realize that tucking my emotions beneath the surface doesn't work anymore. Because my body has physically reached its limit of hiding things away. I think its stress that has done it to me. This lack of control. Or perhaps I really was delusional about how much emotion I had before. When I continue to try my old coping methods, eventually that sassy body of mine shows me who's boss by giving me days where I have no control over the flow of emotions I emit. Its embarrassing and unexplainable at best, because any explanation sounds small and insignificant even to myself.

I read a post that had a few lines that struck me hard today.
It was originally posted on this. These are my favorite parts.

There are some things you can’t understand yet. Your life will be a great and continuous unfolding. It’s good you’ve worked hard to resolve childhood issues while in your twenties, but understand that what you resolve will need to be resolved again. And again. You will come to know things that can only be known with the wisdom of age and the grace of years. Most of those things will have to do with forgiveness.
You cannot convince people to love you. This is an absolute rule. No one will ever give you love because you want him or her to give it. Real love moves freely in both directions. Don’t waste your time on anything else.
Most things will be okay eventually, but not everything will be. Sometimes you’ll put up a good fight and lose. Sometimes you’ll hold on really hard and realize there is no choice but to let go. Acceptance is a small, quiet room.

I have a lot of hard work in front of me. Its daunting. And I feel a slight deja vu to my stress level in second year - which was among my least favorite of times and least favorite version of myself. It truly is daunting this task of living and succeeding. And I'm worried I'm not up to snuff. And I know that you are no more than a distraction for me. Because if I were being truthful, its my inadequacies that are keeping me awake and not your lack of feeling. I know deep down you don't matter anymore. You made your choice. And I am nothing, if not someone who believes in honoring the consequences of our choices. My school is about the only thing that does matter right now. Because I cannot bear the thought of being here any longer than I have to. Or of failing. And so much of what I worry about, has no bearing in the present.

The present is all I have for now. I can't stand the thought of making any plans for the future while I feel so unsettled in my current situation. And that is just the way things are going to be for now.

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