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I recently rediscovered this monologue I wrote last year in English class. It draws inspiration from Narcissus and his unfortunate demise. I clicks more now than it ever has before... You act as if you deserve everything that you’ve been given. As if this was all meant for you. You want everyone to consider you before any step that they make. But the world isn’t a selfless humanitarian leaping to complete your every command. And neither am I. I can’t stand very still and just take everything as you try to figure it out for yourself. I need you to look back and see what kind of a person you were—one that could have done something like that. You act as if he was your god-given right and I was out of my place. When in turn, it really were you that should have backed out. In your whole fury, I doubt you ever considered my point of view—considered what I felt. He didn’t matter to me. Not even one bit. He was a life changing event. It’s what he stood for that was. The situation that represented so much more than you could understand. Yet your narcissism still prevailed. Instead of swallowing your pride, you decided to bite back with ungrateful vengeance. Your empty apologies long retracted. You were all that mattered, and everyone was expected to understand that. You chose the road that benefited you, even if it destroyed me and what I thought was true. You act as if your actions meant nothing. As if it didn’t show anything about whom you are. But actions speak louder than words. It showed everything; it was like an x-ray of your thoughts. The story just moved through your brain, frame by frame. You had everything figured out. But yet you still justified it with your “mistake” sticker. But not everything can be fixed with that. You can just put and band-aid on anything and pretend to be okay. But you made a mistake, so of course, I have to forgive and forget. I had to keep my head up and act like I understood. You and your godforsaken mistakes. Mistakes that ruin me. Ruin everything I stand for and believe. You assume that everyone can just go back to the way it was. You assume that we can all resolve this. But it will take time until this settles. This won’t be fine for a while. But I wouldn’t be surprised if by then you have drowned in a pool of mirrors. Alone with your mistakes.
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Everytime I try to make a clean break, they keep reappearing. I'm through. But yet they rear their ugly head, So what's a girl got to do, but fight? Fight like there's no other. Fight till the only winner is herself, What's a girl got to do but fight?
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One of the major landmarks of my life was my transcontinental move when I was 10 years old. Not only did I have to start a new school, speak a new language, and adapt to a new lifestyle, I was forced to put a bookmark in my life as it was in Poland, after 10 years of knowing, growing up with and living with the same friends. True, there were many times that I wanted to leave them all behind, but in the end, who really does want something like that? Either way, my life in Poland as I knew it was put on hold. First for only one year, as I came back the following summer, and then another year and another summer vacation. Finally, three years passed when I finally went back again two summer ago, after freshman year of high school. Unfortunately, however, I was dreading the visit: I had established friends and a good boyfriend--all back here; but the trip happened anyway. And the shocker happened anyway. It was as if life has never stopped. We were all still the best of friends, shared everything and told each other all. It was as if I've never left. As if the bookmark was taken out and the story of my life continued. It was very bizarre: I was not only having the time of my life with my old friends, but I was also making a ton of new ones. We were all so different, but our common link was our childhood together: our connection. We were now all 15, 16, 17, or even 18, but our bond still lasted. We passed over the hardest years of teenage angst and have come out victorious. Not to imply that they all separated too, and my visit was like one giant reunion. No, they were all still friends, still living together, and hanging out often. But as they kept telling me, "It has never been the same since you left, we've never really been able to recover that blow to all our friendships." And it was one GIANT blow. We were being seperated until forever. But now that we were together again, as a whole (like it was nearly 5 years before) the storyline of our friendships continued right where it left off. The bookmark, simply, has been lifted. Time and time again, however, I got to thinking about our unusual situation: what would have happened if I haven't moved across the pond? Would we still be friends? Would we still be having these conversations? Would we still be us? Sadly, I concluded that the answer to all these questions would probably be no. Why? How often do friends fight with each other? How often, as a teenager, do people completely change their group of friends? Very, very often. We are accustomed to the fact that if something goes wrong in a friendship, we just move on to someone new. And that's exactly what would have happened with us. But due to the lack of contact for pretty much the full 5 years, we haven't been able to have those fights and disagreements. We have always stayed on friendly terms, because there was no reason to do otherwise. Relationships got, literally, bookmarked as they were. Crushes were frozen in time, memories embedded forever, little fights and arguments never forgotten. But that is only possible with total disconnection. As the only friends I have in Poland, they are the ones I turn to for advice, and what reason do they have, not to give it to me? These forgotten, bookmarked friendships--schoolmates, childhood friends--will remind that way forever. As long as I am not a part of their immediate life and they aren't present in mine: it is as if we are living in to different worlds. Thus, this vortex of memories is created and forever upheld. The forgotten friends. 
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This was actually a class assignment: we were given a somewhat famous quote that we were then asked to explain and show it's credibility and depth. "The only real education comes from what goes counter to you." - André Gide (1869-1951) French Writer.
As an author, one can assume that Gide faced many road-blocks throughout his life: poetic restrictions, writer's block, etc. He, however, utilized these challenges, along with his troubled home and family life, to his best advantage. Gide's self-proclaimed best work is a story defending homosexuality, free of the received condemnation. (Britannica Online)
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So I've suddenly come to the realization that school will start in exactly (since it's now officialy Saturday) 3 days. I've also realized that this fact alone isn't what is freaking me out. The true reason for my hyperventilation is what "school" means: a new school--literally, seing as I'm going to be the transfer student from the rival school--with my ex completely unaware of my preasence in "his" domain. Oh, let the hell freeze over. This will not be easily swallowed, especially since we're guaranteed constant acknoladgement and visibility. Ack. But that's not really my point here. What I've come to notice is my complete and total obliteration of my social enviroment. I've had 2 hang out the entire summer: 2, and both with the same person. I guess my redemption is the shopping spree of tomorrow. Trust me, money will be easily obliterated. :) It's not that I haven't wanted to hang out with people. It's more that I didn't see the need to. Otherwise, I would go back to school already sick of my classmates. And where's the fun in that? Besides, between moving, unpacking, reading, writing, summer school, and B-A-B-Y-S-I-T-T-I-N-G, I didn't really have much time. I've spent most of my summer with my 7-year-old counterpart. Which might actually be a good thing, since starting this year, I wont be seing her smiling face until 6 o'clock every school day. I have yet to come to conclusion on that new development. I'm so used to picking her up from school, that I don't really remember the last time I've had the house all to myself. It'll definitely be strange. But, at least, it will open more possibilities for, if due to a lapse in judgement someone actually finds me worthy of their attention--frankly--fooling around (read as: sex). I've figured that I would be perfectly fine from now on to have sex. End of story. Why? I don't know. And on that note, au revoir. |
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The phrase is heard and said over and over again, "Oh, I just have trust issues..." But how many of the people that say it, actually mean it and are telling the truth? For me, I've never really thought about the whole idea as it would apply to me. I never considered myself as a tortured soul, or anything like that. I found that I'm a pretty simple person with usual problems every once in a while. But there's always a moment for someone that changes some part of their beliefs, changes an idea that they've established for themselves. And that happened to me, at the end of this school year. I've always thought that my group of friends was sincere and...normal. I had a great best friend that I could pour my heart out to without being judged and a group of friends that never failed when it came time to have Friday night or during the weekend. Then, I went through some personal stuff: my grandmother passed away, and I've recently had surgery. Trying to get back to the normal routine of school, I've started to realize that the friends I've come to depend on during this hard time, suddenly started to drift away and abandon me. I was especially confused, because I didn't experience any falling out; it was as if they decided on any random day to cut ties with me all together, and all at once. This created a void for me. I suddenly found myself abandoned, with no friends, no explanation and strange hate mail from them all in my inbox. I finally realized that as far as they were concerned, I was nonexistent; and it wasn't a very pleasant experience. It took me a good month to finally stop wandering about what happened, and simply let them go. I cut all ties as well: their numbers were gone from my phone, their emails gone from my address book, their profiles deleted from my friend lists. Only then was I finally able to face going to school and not looking over my shoulder enviously to see what they were up to; to see where they were going on Friday; to see what they were wearing. I have then finally survived (my twisted version of) the stages of mourning: disbelief, sadness, anger, anger, anger, acceptance. I made a rule for myself to never trust any of them again, never fall for their possible future friendship, never beg for my return to the group. It also allowed me to truly appreciate all the other friends I have but I set aside. This, however, showed me that the whole situation did change me. I'm no longer as easily persuaded to separate all my time for one person (a thing that was a simple as breathing with my ex-pseudo-friends), and it's not as easy to trust people with all my secrets. Through all my searching, I've finally found myself to be broken by life. Devoured by it's malicious set-backs. All in all, I have created for myself trust issues with life and the people in it, surrounding me. My biggest problem with that, however, is the concept of trust issues acting as a bad possession. Don't we all need some radar or wall to block us from being hurt? Don't we need a way to protect ourselves from animosity in the world? Don't we need trust issues to get along well in life, and not experience defeat by it? That is yet to be figured out by moi, but hopefully an answer will come to me soon, otherwise, I might just get devoured more by the malicious set-backs.
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I've heard it everywhere: It takes double the length of a relationship to be over it. Well, if that's true, then 2 times 6 weeks is 12 weeks, or about 3 months. Unfortunately, over a year passed and I'm still trying to find peace and serenity. And it doesn't really help if I see the failed boyfriend at every turn and hear about him even more. I think, however, that I've finally realized what I needed to be able to put us on a shelf and let the dust settle. He was a jerk of a person. Not to me, because we had a great time together, and shared many of the same interests. I'm pretty sure that he unfortunately wasn't that same person. And now I'm alright with that, because I'm ready for something from a fairy-tale, someone ready to deal with me without only showing his profile. I want to see the real person when I date them. I want to show affection outside my house, or the movie theatre. I don't want to hide the fact that we're together. I want the world to know that I have a boyfriend who doesn't just want to get in my pants. And I want someone who feels just the same. ( Creativity Burst ) Through overplayed memories, and impossible fantasies,
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nostalgic
shocked
tired
creative
calm