Log in

No account? Create an account

back thattaway | next thisaway

The first cut is the deepest…

So, I had one of those "woe is me" introspective nights last night. Brought on, no doubt, from viewing "Mona Lisa Smile" – which was a mediocre film at best, but still left me questioning the validity of my life. Nothing like watching young women choosing between the men who love them and the exciting world of academia to remind me that A) I am sans a man who loves me and 2) Having been away from higher education for over a year now, I am convinced that I am growing stupider by the day (there, you see? I just used word "stupider", convinced myself that it was a non-word, looked it up in the dictionary & found that it *does* in fact, exist. All of this should serve as further proof of my rapidly declining intellect.)

So, let us get on with the self-discovery here… I am not doing anything worthwhile with my life. That's pretty much the bottom line. I have studied every subject under the sun & still feel like I know absolutely nothing… I have been to 50 sem-odd indie shows this year, yet have been passionate about only a handful. Not to mention the fact that I *still* cannot seem to review my experiences with any semblance of authority or even the slightest hint that I have even the tiniest clue of what I'm writing about. I am basically what remains of a girl who was once awash with "unlimited potential", and now having squandered said potential and is living at home, sitting in a dead-end job, and maintaining an expensive "soft-addiction" (new buzzword!!!) to live music. (we won't even get into the many many unpaid parking tickets that are mounting up, the possible suspension of my license for non-payment of various other traffic tickets, or the ungodly amount I pay every month for the luxury of my beautiful beetle that I can't remotely afford.)

I used to be able to justify most of my life's odd twists and turns… and to some extent I still can (I suppose in that way I'm rather creative) It is entirely true that although I don't like where I am in my life, I do tend to like *who* I am… and that I wouldn't be who I am with out having trudged through some of the more unseemly paths I have taken to arrive at the giant rut I have fallen into as of late. That being said… I used to be better. The things on which I prided myself were: A) My intellect 2) My unyielding pursuit of & unwavering belief in true love D) My loyalty & ability to be an excellent friend. Now we've already seen how my intellect is wasting away, so let's attack my other great strengths now & see how they've been sapped, shall we?

Let's start with the friend thing first… This is going to be rather obvious. I have lost my two best friends on the planet inside of 2 years. It obviously makes me feel like a failure despite the fact that I can trace the demise of these friendships to "not being my fault". Also, I put nearly all that I had into both relationships & ended up feeling like I got majorly shafted in return. So, yes. I am still a good friend to the friends I have… andI like to think that the fact that many of these friends have stood by me during this rather tumultuous year is a testament to that fact, but none of my current friendships are even remotely on the level of the 2 that have disintegrated. So here I am, wondering if putting so much energy into my friendships over the years has really been such a wise decision. On the other hand… I long to feel that comfortable with another person again & I think this blog is partially a cry for that… instead of confiding all of my confessions & rants to another person, they fall here – for the tiny masses to collectively read / sympathize / criticize / condone. It's unfortunate, however, that the blog will never take me out for coffee, ice cream or cheese fries :-/

Moving onto the love issue… Ah yes. I used to be fantastic. If I was in love, there was no stopping me. I did not get "geeked out". I did not stop to think that in my pursuit of love I might frighten a boy away. I was Queen of grand sweeping romantic gestures… I was Felicity. I may not have chosen my college to be near a boy, but I really wasn't that far off. I used to get on planes, trains, and greyhound busses to be with a boy I loved. I used to be fearless, I used to take chances, I used to tell a boy exactly how I felt no matter what, just to have put it out there. I'd go looking for confrontation, I wrote long detailed letters about emotion, about longing & anguish ( I *used* the word "anguish"). I walked that line between persistent paramour & freakish stalker… I wore my heart on my sleeve, but my sleeve got bloodied & these days I think I've eschewed sleeves altogether. Been going "sleeveless" if you will. In retrospect, I think I've gotten a lot more screwed up along the way than I originally thought. It's hard to say where my walls came a-tumbling down, but they did. I had bouts of love-sickness like the world has never seen, and these days I'm lucky if I can even LIKE the same guy 3 weeks in a row. It's a shame really. Like I said, I used to be fantastic… full of hope & love & determination, but somewhere along the line I got beat. Sheryl Crow has just come out with a re-make of an old Cat Stevens tune, please allow me to share a few lines: the first cut is the deepest. But when it comes to being lucky he's cursed, When it come to loving me he's worst
Now allow me to get psuedo philosophical / geeky on your ass: that metaphorical first cut *is* the deepest… and in my case, not unlike the wound sustained by Frodo at the hands of the Witch King Angmar. He feels the wound of the Morgul blade year after year… it is a wound that will never fully heal, and that is honestly how I feel. I think now, I am finally able to accept that like the small incision at the base of my spine, this is a permanent scar. It may fade, become less noticeable to the naked eye, but it will nevertheless always be scar tissue, and I will always feel it's sting when it rains…
I may try to love again in many different incarnations, but my sensory memory works against me. I dream of someday letting love beat as fast and furious within my heart again as it once did, but I know that to feel that kind of unabashed emotion I need to be open to it… to trust that I might be worthy of love despite my failings, and well, if you read any of the above… you can see I'm not exactly on that track at the moment.

Although, I did also watch Goonies last night which left mefeeling MUCH better about things... lol, ANYways. Thanks for the vent – you'd think I was PMSing, wouldn't you? But no, it's just my annual, "have I just wasted a year of my life?" ramble.
Oh, and PLEASE... those of you who have an urge at the moment to post a comment in an effort to a) validate my existence, 2) tell me to seek counseling or d) provide your own psychoanalysis, step *away* from the keyboard. I appreciate the thought, and fully realize that not replying might cause several of you to sever your tongues, but this whole introspective deal is one I need to work through on my own. I'm sure I'll have better & brighter things to say next time ;)