Past Curiosity

Tonight I came across old pictures and videos, some that had you in them (unsurprisingly since we were together for a while). It was a little odd looking back on that time in our lives, but some part of me just couldn’t stop staring.

Then I looked through old emails, from the good times, the bad times… and the end. I’m surprised with how profound and mature our responses were at the time. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t tear up a little, so I just won’t say anything.

I wonder what it would be like now. The you that I knew in that era is appallingly similar to who I have become now. I think of how much I have grown, of what I expect to give in a relationship. I say give because I’m not sure I have many standards for what I receive in one anymore, which is a sad thing to say, and I know that past you would be disappointed by that information. I wonder how you have matured. You always seemed a few steps ahead of me in maturity, in belief development, and so I wonder if, now that I feel I’ve caught up to you, would you still be a few steps ahead? A few years down the road just waiting for me to catch up when I never will?

As a writer, my mind jumps to the fact that this could be the most inspirational love story ever told. Boy and girl fall in love, go through hell, go their separate ways, find each other again years later once they’ve grown and matured, and come back together for their happily ever after. Such dangerous thoughts, but I blame the idiom that you never forget your first love.

All I know is I wonder, and I wonder if I will ever find out.

Backlit Cubicle

Relaxing Sunday evening my ass. It’s been a long yet short weekend traveling up to West Chester. It went by in the blink of an eye – something I’m hoping that will happen with the rest of this semester. The string of Christmas lights that normally lights my room is 3/4 burned out so, quite like me this semester, it’s hanging on by a thread.

Although my hair currently reminds me of Doc’s in Back to the Future, it’s nice to find some time to yourself. I may have left my razor at Lauren’s (oops), but I’m finding other ways to care for myself. I love the clay masks that leave me crimson, and the pride in using a netti pot and actually feeling like it’s doing something. Hopefully it will leave me more balanced than I have been feeling recently.

Karma struck again last Tuesday. More bad news, more cries for help. More keeping to myself in order to process instead of comforting those who would worry as much as I would about the news. May this green tea remedy work, and may my razor find its way back to me soon…

I’ve felt off-kilter emotionally lately, from a source I never would have expected – my family. I’ve always been very big on family. It’s how I was raised, I guess, to want your family close to you and close together. But something about it has put me in a sour mood. Sometimes I have these blips of emptiness, and I still can’t find where the stem from, but they have been occurring more often lately, mostly around my family, and I wonder, why now? Is there something about my family, some of the people I love most in this world, that makes me feelĀ lonely? How can that be?

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Perhaps they are too together, too figured out for this green, broken spirit. Once I explore will I feel whole again? I wish I could pinpoint, but for now I’ll just wonder. If there’s anything I’ve learned, it’s that sometimes you can ask the question and you won’t find the answer right away. Many of my questions have gone unanswered, but when I find them I find them and for now I just have to be patient (something I’ve never been good at).

More lines were crossed, old lines, new lines. All very shaken, an earthquake hovering beneath the surface. I would rather the earth open and swallow me whole than deal with the cracking of that earthquake. So for now I choose to step carefully, ignorantly, as if things can still be okay.

All I know is I need to get out. I need my home to return to my home. I need a moment to figure myself out, and then I need to get the hell away from my hometown if I ever hope to overcome that ledge. I think it’s the only way, or at least the only way I can see. I always see the world so black and white (a cultural thing, I’ve learned), but there is always gray, and most of the time I fail to see it.

I do miss my homes, and I’m very close to seeing both of them. Very conflicted feelings.

I wish this entry would have been more of a revelation, an inspiration, but sometimes life just doesn’t work that way, and that’s okay.

Love

The Irony of This Blog Name

Wondering really can lead to malicious thoughts. I have always been the person who has been too worried about what could be if I just gave the person another chance, and I get an anxious feeling like if I give up I will be missing out on something important. What if I’m missing my chance? What if I give up on the wrong thing?

I recently had an ex contact me, asking if the ship has sailed for us, just because he was wondering, like he didn’t know what to think of it. At first I thought this was kind of sweet, because of course I wonder too what could have been if things hadn’t gone all wrong. But then I started thinking of how he used to wonder when we were in a relationship and how much trouble that got him into during our time together. I think he struggles with the same fear of missing out, fear of making an irreparable mistake.

I don’t have any advice, and life lessons for this fear, as I still continue to battle it. It can be a great weakness of mine, one that leads me to forgive people too quickly because I think they deserve another chance. I want it to change. I know I deserve better than I have been treated, but part of me just can’t let go, is desperate to hang on so that I know where it ends. But you can’t do that.

It bothers me that I’m this way. I can’t know where our futures are going with every single person I meet, there’s just no way that’s possible. I can’t torture myself with “well what if this happened?” But at this point in time I realize that I am the person that will forgive too easily just to see what could be. And while I love being a loving, caring, empathetic person, I think it’s starting to hurt me more than help me.

I would ask for advice, but I feel it’s more of a when-you-know-you-know situation. Plus I’ve always been the person to consider advice and then follow my own head.

All I can say is don’t take someone’s forgiveness for granted. Don’t take it as a weakness. Think instead of why they had to forgive you.