Here And Now

February 19, 2009 § Leave a comment

I’ve been thankful for all the love I’ve received from my friends in the past week. Although not all the kind words in the world could mend the void in my soul, it is good to be loved. I appreciate the phone calls, texts and hugs.

I consciously wanted, throughout the relationship, not to be “that couple”: the pair that is utterly inseparable, cloyingly clingy, and generally alienating to everybody. I tried my best to balance boyfriend time with girlfriend time, though I’m not sure how successful I actually was. I hope to be forgiven if anybody felt pushed aside. My mother got mad at me, complaining that I had double the obligation as my other [single] friends. But a relationship requires emotional investment; what else could I do?

It’s not doing me much good listening to my weepy playlist. Some lyrics are so poignant that I can’t hear them without having to stop what I’m doing in order to catch my breath and calm my agitated thoughts. Yet, I can’t listen to anything else. I’m not in the mood for happy music or dance music. I have an awful lot of love songs, but I would really rather die than listen to them now.

I’ve also had the flu [or my recurring pneumonia]. What a shit week.

Nothing makes sense anymore. Nothing matters anymore. I am really in quite a selfish state. God, I can’t wait until this week is over. But work never stops. I think I can’t wait until life is over. I’m trying my best to hold out until spring break…

I miss him still.

It’s a good thing I won’t be seeing him until the end of next month. I caught a glimpse of a guy that I thought looked like him at the library yesterday and almost had a heart attack. Dear God.

On Monday night, I literally stayed up all night in order to finish a four-page French paper. Surprisingly, the experience was less agonizing than the ones that I had to write last semester when I started earlier than 1AM. I got one hour of sleep, but it didn’t feel any different than getting five hours of sleep. And getting any amount of sleep doesn’t make a difference when all hours of the day and night are spent in a daze, and I honestly couldn’t care if a car ran over me as I was crossing the street – somebody put me out of my misery already. I sound melodramatic but the truth is that I’m so numb that nothing matters anymore.

Anyway, our unit was French Romanticism and I was working with two poems, “The Lake” by Lamartine and “The Melancholy of Olympio” by Victor Hugo. I honestly cannot comprehend French poetry [or even prose most of the time] unless it’s translated into English or meticulously explained, but after hours of interpreting the poems, I fell in love a little because they pretty much reflected what I was going through: distress, and the mourning of a lost love. I’m glad I’m not alone.

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