I over think things, I question every action I take far too much, and then there are moments where I don’t question it at all and I feel like I should. I feel like right now, that may be one of those times where I should be questioning my shit a little bit more than I am. But, if everything feels so right, how could I dare let logic interfere? How should I tell myself that all of this is lies and slander; how can I explain to myself that I’m just going to end up in the same boat that I was before as far as pain and suffering goes?
I guess these are the risks that hopeless romantics take. These are the things that happen to us on a regular basis, this is the reason why most of our lives we’re just picking up the pieces of some part of us that use to be whole. We let people in, we let down our walls, we hope that maybe they’ll understand us, and then we get burned harder than we were ever burnt before. Or, even worse, we get silence.
I met a boy on the internet a couple of weeks ago. I think that I like him more than I should. He sends me songs that I’ve never heard before, he’s read the same books as me, he says all of the right things. He can go from being the sweetest thing ever, to being the cruelest thing ever, but the cruelty is more just an odd term of endearment. No worries, it’s not actual cruelty. There’s this odd amount of balance about him that strikes a small flame in my heart, that makes me feel like there are butterflies floating about, that makes me wonder if I can have feelings. There’s something about him that makes me feel reckless, that makes me feel like I should make rash decisions, that makes me feel like I could be in love. Yes. Love. So fast, so sudden, there it is. Or, maybe I’m lying to myself. Maybe I’m poisoning myself, slowly but surely. The problem is, if that’s the case, so is he. He’s poisoning himself with me. Maybe we’re about to kill each other, maybe it’ll be beautiful.
I feel like I’m at a point in my life where I’m trying to defy something that’s as natural as gravity. I feel like I’m telling my brain to get fucked and jumping on the rollercoaster that is my heart, once again. I feel like I’m holding on and I don’t see and end in sight, and that nothing else in the world matters. I feel like everything is so right and so wrong all wrapped up into one big, giant burrito.
Then, on the other hand, I feel broken. I feel lost. I feel like I’m hurting. I feel like I’ve lost something important in my life. I feel like I’m lacking. I feel like I’m trying to fill up the empty spaces as quickly as I can, in an attempt to not hurt so much anymore. I feel like I don’t have the right words to say, that the only people who I want to be around right now are too far away. I feel like I want to set money aside in an attempt to at least try to make it to Steph’s dad’s memorial. I feel like a 4hr drive is a lot more plausible than a 6hr drive, but I feel like I should be able to do the 6hr drive too. It’s bad enough that I missed what was held for Brad. I shouldn’t miss this at all. I should be there, I should see my friend, I should say my goodbyes.
There won’t be any more epic stories, no more talking about music for hours on end. There won’t be any more words of “you don’t know how to drink, little girl” or any more shots poured for me. There won’t be any more family gatherings, birthday celebrations, or moments of heroics with him there. All I can think about is how much it hurts to me, and how much more it must hurt for my best friend to lose his dad. I can’t imagine losing my own dad. I’d be so broken right now.
If I lost my dad today, I don’t know that I’d be able to function tomorrow. I feel like, at times, I’ve lost my dad years ago and he’s yet to come back. There are small little glimpses of him here and there, but I think that now that I’m an adult he just doesn’t know how to talk to me. He doesn’t know how to be a dad anymore. He calls my bluffs all the time, he asks me if the things that I’m doing are for good purpose or for some broken brain issues that I’m having when it comes to over-analyzing my situation. He reminds me that I’m a failure as far as being a parent goes. He makes a big scene whenever he can. He’s stressed out, he’s lost inside of his computer, I feel like I don’t even know him half the time. I miss the mornings I’d get up in the morning and get a ride from him to school. I miss stopping for coffee along the way, I miss our talks, I miss just having him near me. I use to think that when my dad was with me, that I was safe. Now, when my dad is near me, I just get mad because he’s so far fucking gone into his laptop.
Sometimes, I wonder if my dad even gives a shit or if he just pretends that he does because it’s his duty as a dad. It’s one of those “do you love me because you love me, or do you love me because society tells you that you have to love me” things. I just feel like 99% of the time, my parents loathe me. They hate the choices that I’ve made, the situation that I’ve managed to get myself into, they don’t like any aspect of my life. I feel like every time I’m around them, I get some look of disapproval. I get lectured about something, most things, and I feel like nothing I do is right. I keep trying and trying to please them, but there’s no pleasing people who choose to be so miserable.
And to think, my dad use to be the most important person in my life. My dad was the one that I ran to when I began to realize that I had a drug issue. My dad was the one that I felt I could talk to without too much fear of judgement. My dad use to be the light of my life, where has he gone? Why can’t I have those things anymore?