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Tuesday, 29 July 2014


You may have noticed (no you didn't, I know no one's reading this) that the last post, dated from over a week ago, has no labels and seems incomplete. That's because it is. I started writing it and kept it as a draft but could not finish it. I could not even bring myself to read it through before posting it. I considered adding to it instead of writing a new post but the post I wanted to write to follow up on it was not written either and I don't think this post will do it. 

I am still in an unfortunate dry spell, as far as being able to word my thoughts goes. 

It will seem a bit implausible, but the reason I am writing this post is because I just watched The Princess Bride. I watched it because Nd recommended it after watching it with their boyfriend. I had a vague memory of its name and the notion that there was a bit of a cult in its honour and it seemed like a good enough reason to watch it. The film did not disappoint me. In fact, I was gladly surprised by its twists, turns and the way it made fun of itself. I appreciated the clever dialogue and could excuse the poor acting or horrid soundtrack. The idea that stuck with me, though, and that's perhaps because I somehow made a connection in my mind between Ax and the film, is that true love is an honourable cause. Ax posted a status update on facebook the other day where he essentially tore apart that saying about letting go the one you love because if it's meant to be they'll come back to you and if they don't it wasn't meant to be in the first place. Ax argued love is worth fighting for, it's worth being passionate about and worth the risk in general. I have to say I agree. Or, well, I silently do and then ponder on the possible consequences of what it would actually mean to hold to that in my current situation. 

I didn't write about it (or you would have read a fresh retelling of it already) but I received an e-mail from SmTn. I made the mistake of asking for EBF's advice when I couldn't think of anything to answer and that's more heartbreak than I can bear to talk about just now, so I'll just go back to the e-mail for now. It was not a long one, but it was the longest communication I've had with SmTn in a very long time. Why, it's been almost a year now. It's been almost a year of hardly talking at all and I still feel excited when I'm reminded of the fact that he still thinks about me sometimes. His e-mail was melancholy, and at least by two different accounts indicative of the fact that my initial diagnosis may have been correct: perhaps SmTn does struggle with depression. He meant to say "I miss you" in a somewhat cheerful way and yet conveyed a bit more than that. All right, he openly said lovely things that make my heart warm and my soul twinkle. I didn't say the same to him and I sometimes worry if I should have but then remind myself it's not my place to tell someone in a committed relationship of such feelings. I simply settled for saying "I miss you too" and implied that the sentiment behind those words wasn't going anywhere. Except not in those words. I may have been a bit more cryptic than that. 

Again, I couldn't keep writing. I'm determined to write some more, though. If only to rant about something. I'm growing more and more misanthropic by the day. You know how earlier, because I don't care much for myself, I settled for doing good deeds for others? A good deed is a good deed and time spent on good deeds is never wasted, or so I thought. Until I started growing weary of people. At first it was Nd, and that was bound to happen sooner than later because of their horrible manners, but now I'm growing tired of Md. I cannot stand her shrugs, her indecisiveness, her permanently pessimistic mood and the way she catastrophises everything and keeps using meaningless apologies as bait for compliments. I've had it. I actually find it hard to make conversation with her. I really have trouble being around her and I used to prefer her to Nd. It's all to say... I'm terrible around people these days.

Yesterday I had a personalised tango lesson all to myself courtesy of Rh and the complete disinterest of just about everyone else who cancelled the previous lessons and practice sessions and grew tired of showing up for them. It did not help matters one bit because a point was further reinforced that I do not connect properly during close embrace (or any embrace, really) and I'm always ready to move away from my dancing partner. A week ago this was pointed out to me as "you have to hold me like you want to make love to me." Rh was a gentleman and used every other way to say the exact same thing. Needless to say, I just can't do it. Not with strangers, not with less than close friends. I see it's a problem but I'll insist on trying to make things work without this because I'm determined to keep tango up even if it continues to ruin my budget. I need some form of escape other than Nd and Md. I need to interact with other people even if most of them are old people I don't know who, in spite of trying to be in their best behaviour, act like old people. It's an excuse to dress up, every once in a while, and play around with make-up and be away from everyone else I know. 

Any and every excuse is a good excuse to stop writing, apparently. I just went off on a tangent looking for sixties' nail styles because I figured I might do a sixties make-up look on Saturday and... why am I writing this?

There's so much more to write!

There's the picture posted today on my facebook newsfeed that I keep going back to because it's been so long since I felt the butterflies and that's the effect this picture has on me. Even if the butterflies have nowhere to fly other than my not-nearly-empty-enough stomach. And yes, that's a statement about my body image issues because I'm aware of the fact that I'm overweight. At least 6kg overweight and I have a torn and mended dress to prove it. Once again, I'm avoiding the difficult subjects.

This was pointed out to me during therapy. When questions were asked I avoided them by answering with stories that were unrelated. Painting detailed pictures of trees when asked to show the forest. Or something along those lines. It was pointed out to me that I make little of big issues as a coping mechanism and that I should practice mindfulness, not so unlike the mindfulness that happened when I broke down and cried for almost two days straight after receiving SmTn's e-mail and talking to EBF about it. 

It's as if thinking too hard about anything were hard because I'm so used to numbing myself out with YouTube videos, pointless comedy articles and random bits of useless information I fill my days with so I don't get bored and actually have to think. It doesn't matter if I make my mind up to do something, I can't bring myself to do it in a timely manner.

Now my mind wanders again and I feel like I have to write about the fact that I was supposed to meet with Tx and Ax but Tx called to cancel. Except she was crying when she did and got me worried because she might as well just have texted if she didn't want me to know what the problem was. And she didn't. She kept saying she was okay. I felt obligated to ask about her later because she'd promise to get in touch later and three hours later hadn't, and I offered to be nice without meaning to be nosy and she said "thanks but no thanks." She still made me promise to meet her some other time this week, which shouldn't be a problem because she has the housewarming party on Friday anyway. After not-that-much facebook stalking I dare make a guess about what happened: her other sibling died.

Silence again. 

I feel numb. Empty. I'm barely dragging on and there's barely a shell of what I once was left to do what needs to be done at this point. 

Third day writing this post. *sigh*

I'll just leave the two songs I've had in my head for a while now. Well, the two singers, mostly. One is the song I wanted to send SmTn. The other is the one I actually sent. It won't take you too long to guess which is which. 

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