Wednesday, November 11, 2009

God has a sense of humor. (No. Really.)

So it's no secret that I have not been handling the last six months or so very well. It came to a peak recently and I've had a chance to look at the mess I've made around myself and I've come to the conclusion that I am well and truly tired of all this bullshit. I don't know how well I'll be able to maintain this attitude (I've tried it before, but couldn't hang on to it) but I, despite anyone's evidence to the contrary, have some insane willpower. When I choose to use it. So let's use it.

There's a lot of old letters and pictures I'm going to have to do something with. I don't know what, yet. I'm sentimental. Sometimes too sentimental, but there it is. And of course, I come to these conclusions to do something and the weather turns wet, cold, dreary. See? God does have a sense of humor. And also a sense of irony and cliche. At least, He does with me. Because I have a similar dry, biting sense of humor, irony, and cliche. Har har, tee hee. I'd be mad if I didn't appreciate the sentiment. I don't want to do anything at all with the letters and the pictures, but I can't operate under the illusion that what I want is going to ever happen. At least not until I want something else. Then that something else might have a chance, but what was will never be again, no matter how much I want it. I've stalled and procrastinated, because it's going to suck dealing with it. I know it and so I've tried to avoid it. I can't.

I can't be her friend. I can't ever be her friend. I tried. I hoped that maybe I would be ok with just being a friend for a little while, maybe somehow show her we could work out again, the newer versions of each of us coming from better places. But that's delusion. It's hope blinding me, and false hope at that. I don't need that false hope, but anytime she says anything to me, no matter how loud my rational brain says it means nothing, my heart leaps from my chest into my throat and screams out it's hope to drown out any other noise or sound. So I can't be her friend. I can't be her anything. Two more weekends of faire to get through and then she doesn't have to see me or communicate with me. I don't have to see her or communicate with her. I promised I'd never give up. And I can't keep that promise. God help me, but I hope it's the last one I have to break.

So I quit. I give up. I surrender. I'm done.

For now, I go to class, I workout, I keep my grades up. I sing when I can. The rest of the time? I close my ears to the world, turn on some music, crank the volume up insanely high and drown out the cries of my heart with something else.

Turn it to 11.

Power levels to maximum.

I will raise my voice to the Lord. I will sing the New Song.

they will not force us/they will stop degrading us/they will not control us/we will be victorious
(come on)

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