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finis   
03:08pm 14/02/2007
 
mood: lonely
i just dont understand. he seemed so happy to hear from me, all those promises and words like i was still sitting next to him, with his hand warm on my skin.

im in a different country, halfway across the world, but somehow im still in the same place. missing something, someone who has deemed me unworthy of surviving even in memory. building days around a ghost, shunning everyone else so i can wallow in my own misery.

i thought it would be different. i thought i was better, stronger. i fooled myself into thinking id gained independence, learned to be on my own, discovered how to present myself to others and craft a new life.

i was wrong. im destroyed.

i wont be writing in here again. im done. 6 years of online blogging and nothing to show for it. not that i blame anyone; who wants to read this depressing crap? now its staying in my head for good. which might not be the best idea, but maybe i should reconsider therapy.

over. out.
 
     
3 past regrets| drowning past regrets
 
homme savage   
11:03am 05/02/2007
  i dont suppose i should be surprised. i guess i shouldnt take it personally. you never were dependable, even when we were together, near each other. i always had the impression that i was encroaching upon your world, and it was so easy to push me out of mind once i was out of sight. how much simpler it must be to write me off now, with two countries between us.

i know i need to get over you. i realize i cant keep entertaining your ghost each night, whispering to him every thought in my head. i cant fathom why its so hard for me to let go, i can only think its because you were the first one to stimulate more than just my heart.

the truth is, youre a comfort to me. the memories of you help keep the worst of the self-reproach away. i like to wrap myself up in mooning over you when the loneliness gets so cold i cant even feel the tears on my cheeks.

youre seriously haunting me. the way you said you missed me keeps running through my head, and everything i hear and see and do i want to share with you. every day is one more to tack onto the passage of time before not even my pining can keep it alive. but im not ready, i just cant let go yet.

wasting my life, my experiences here. giving away all my energy to someone who isnt here, neglecting building a social life and the progression of my degree. im fucking tired of myself.
 
     
drowning past regrets
 
telephone lines   
04:58am 02/02/2007
 
mood: distressed
god it hurts my heart to hear you say my name again. sitting on the edge of my bed, shaking and straining to hear you through the noise, a thousand words running through my head and my veins but unable to fill the distance between us. my mind swirling long after the connection was lost, turning into my blankets in the attempt to substitute your warmth.

modern technology has pitted against us, and our attempts to kit. perhaps thats for the best, because there is this seed of hope springing to life inside of me because you didnt forget me, you didnt want to. i woke with a smile on my face and a bounce in my step despite the lack of sleep and thats never a good thing. becauze when i talk to you tonight, anything you say just wont be enough to fill the void, and you dont believe in empty promises. and i just dont know if i can hear about how well you are doing, or pretend to you that im happy, that i dont regret leaving you.

thinking, maybe ill see you again. maybe i can take a plane, a short flight through the sky so i can touch you again. maybe you can stay with me here, on my short mattress, my cramped room, my strange situation. maybe i can hide in your bed and never go home.

ive reopened a very deep, very painful wound here. i should have held on to the anger, the bitterness, the belief that you wrote me off. resentment has always been much easier to bear than this yearning.
 
     
drowning past regrets
 
an era of despairing   
01:57pm 23/01/2007
 
mood: lonely
im carrying a heavy weight. i havent felt this lonely in a long time. i look up to the sky like it will offer me some solution, when i know the problem is rooted inside of myself. i wish i could excavate my history, rediscover that tomb erected around that little girl i used to be. burrow down through the layers of disappointments and tragedies, lift up those stones of insecurity and doubt. but what would i find left of her there; how can you reintroduce joy and pleasure into a body so addicted to misery?

i think that when im among the masses, to differentiate myself from the rest i adopt the air of melancholy. im unique because i see the truth, i appreciate the misery of the natural world, unlike you happy, ignorant assholes around me.

i know. this fault lies with me. its frightening to me, how i see my future, how i measure my value by the presence of others. these times, when i am alone with my mind, i cry and i rage and i promise myself tomorrow, i will make a change. i will be more outgoing, interesting, vibrant, attractive. and i fall into bed, sodden with alcohol and trying to ignore the sounds of life continuing all around me, without me, but they permeate even my sleep.
i just cant escape from myself. i knew this before i started trying. i had hoped that somehow leaving home would reinvent my temperament, erase the flaws of my character and in a different landscheme would emerge a girl worthy.

a girl can hope.

but i dont have hope anymore. just the reality of being here, surrounded by grey. and the looming date when i will have to return home, an unchanged person.
 
     
drowning past regrets
 
everything   
12:10pm 17/01/2007
 
mood: crappy
everything is down. my immune system, my life. i cant remember when i last saw the sun. im walking around this city, on the same route; i dont dare stray further and explore.

everything seems so pointless. i have no energy to craft a new life here, and why should i? ill be leaving anyway, just like i left the one good thing i had. i can barely breathe without crying, why would anyone want my depressing ass around? i disgust people even an ocean apart from me.

everything is dead. everything i valued, and all that i see in this cold place. i feel like ive reverted back to where i was before, only so much is different that i cant even be comfortable in the familiar misery.

everything hurts. i wish i could talk to him, but i know if reached out across that distance it would only reverberate back and compound the emptiness inside. i feel like im not even living anymore.


oh you just want to be wanted its making you sick
but its all right its only a prick
and thats how you know that its bad
thats the problem with pain; its just something to have.
oh youre running the clock cuz you cant make it stop.
so just sit still and hope the hammer wont drop.
 
     
drowning past regrets
 
better things will surely come my way   
08:56am 10/01/2007
 
mood: drained
i went to a pub last night, my first in cork. actually, two, but i dont count the very first one because it wasnt the experience i wanted. at the second, i drank a 2nd pint and listened to irish music one table over and had an intense conversation with a person. a person who almost made me forget, by sheer fascination, how sick my heart is. i discovered that no matter what i try to tell myself, im a social creature. imagine my surprise when he was in one of my classes.


speaking of classes, i love this college. its cold, yes, and i dont have complete liberty to take what i want, but its better than fucking french 20 hours a week. im taking two celtic civilization classes, a biology (getting it over with), and human sexuality. i figure, when i go back to the states ill only have to take psych from then on. and its just so incredibly beautiful here, walking past buildings overgrown with moss and history, seeing more fauna than a greenhouse. and its not bad, not bad at all, to be able to communicate, even if its just a stranger with a quick greeting.


i emailed him yesterday. before i got too drunk. its been two weeks since i last saw him, and i woke up with the memory of a dream where i was waiting for him, in a familiar spot ill never be again. he was close, he was going to arrive and kiss me and rest his hand on my waist as he walked me to his car. but my alarm woke me up, and i had to face the rain and the loneliness again. i feel cheated; i cant even have him in my subconscious. even that time in my mind is cut short. i wont repeat what i said, or even paraphrase it; its too personal, too painful. lets just say that my heart leapt up into my throat when i checked my mail today, because i had new messages, and i tried not to throw my laptop off the balcony when all 3 of them were from itunes.


i want to travel more, and now is my chance. maybe im meant to be alone, especially at the moment. i have the whole month of april off, so definitely there will be opportunity then. and in march, this band im obsessed with now is coming to cork. im still smarting over missing the duke spirit in cork, but maybe it will make up for it to see the howling bells. i have to admit, altho its incredibly bitter and difficult for me to leave him, it glows a little warmth inside of me to know that he loved me too.


drinking here alone is not so pretty for a girl
drinking here with you makes me a pearl
everyday is lost if not with you
send me home, i'm tired and blue
broken bones may hurt
but a broken heart will never mend

>>>howling bells, 'broken bones'
 
     
drowning past regrets
 
just another city   
05:09am 06/01/2007
 
mood: lonely
she was right. she usually is. so im taking the pills again, like the good little girl i am.
im in ireland now. so far, ive holed up in my room because the thought of going out, crafting a whole new life bruises my already tattered heart.

im used to being alone, of course. ive devised ways to entertain myself since i was very young, but those doubts and insecurities still eat away at me when im standing alone in a noisy room of people who pretend im not there. (it seems to be not just exclusive to the french; americans and irish are also wearing social blinders. no one is interested in meeting anyone new, no one is willing to step outside their comfortable, secure little worlds.)

so its hard for me to take any more emotional beatings. i cry enough each day, thank you. my soul is already torn down the middle and my body is sore from the labor of wrenching endings and disappointing starts.

i cant imagine going home. i cant imagine sitting on that mountain, commuting to that school, working in that city. living that life.

its hard to adjust. i hate how i only have 16 hours of internet here in my room per month. (ive already used like 5, in 3 days.) i hate how they speak english, but its so fast and mangled by the accent that i feel just like i did in france, slow and deaf. i hate how they have so many stores, but i still cant find the one thing i need; and god, everything is so expensive here.

no, its not all bad. like yesterday in the market, the old man selling me oranges telling me his opinion about clinton, how he liked that president better, and that monica lewinsky, well she would tempt the devil himself. (before she got fat anyway. who wants to marry a lump of lard? she could be a star, if she hadnt let herself go.)

im trying here. im heartbroken and im lost and im angry. im lonely as ive never remembered being before, and the world is so big, how can it be that no one wants to befriend me? but im still getting out of bed, and thats more than i have the energy for.


drops come through small holes in my eyes; sound of a thousand heartbeats stopping as i wave goodbye.
 
     
drowning past regrets
 
c'est dommage   
07:56am 02/01/2007
 
mood: tipsy
so this is my last day in france. (well, not really; ill have to fly here to de gaulle for a layover on the way home.) but otherwise, it wasnt that bad of a dernier jour; i had a chai latte in the rain, i bought some cute clothes, i sent a gift to the states, and i said goodbye in my own way, by myself here in paris. drunk at 4.30 in the afternoon on cheap, cheap wine that still tastes better than any wine i could get anywhere else, savoring the freshness of the bread and the snootiness of the servicemen.

its over. i know its the best for me; i cant stay here, i dont fit in to this culture. it hurts, of course; he was the nicest, sweetest boy ive ever had. and i know when the pain stops ill feel even more so, that he really helped me realize some things about myself. but i cant see myself in a year, or even a month, being with him in his lifestyle. i regret that last cryptic message i sent him, but im comfortable in my justification, as always. im right to say goodbye, even if it is by text message. a little anti-climatic, after all he meant to me. how much he made me feel in such a short time. oh boy, you were so perfect for me; if only you could open your eyes and see that a 2 hour plane flight could never be too far away for my heart to span. and im not going to waste my time and my energy on some manchild.

i mean, i have ireland to conquer now. ill be living in an en suite room; a shared bathroom, a shared kitchen, one can only hope ill be able to get along with my roommates. i have pubs and green hills and history to wrap myself in.... and if it so happens that i dont have anyone to keep me warm at night, its ok that he will be the last one to have touched me. i think i can be content with the ghost of his memory denting the mattress beside me.


so. au revoir, france. maybe i will appreciate you more when i wont have to deal with you on a regular basis. i surely wont ever forget my time with you.
 
     
drowning past regrets
 
you make this all go away. i just want something i can never have.   
11:48am 28/12/2006
 
mood: heartbroken
you claim to miss me as much as i miss you, but i dont know if thats really possible. every mile that takes me away from you stretches on my heartstrings until the smallest things become unbearable. this was my own choice, which makes it even harder to accept. if its the right thing, if its the best for me, why do i feel so fucking alone and unhappy? im haunted by your absence, i feel cheated out of the times we could have shared. its hard to believe ill never kiss you again.

i swear, even through the taste of this muscat, your tears are still on my lips.

today, in the open air market of nice, i heard someone playing bongo drums. it brought you back to the front of my mind, and you havent left since.

i should be ecstatic. i am going to a new country, to study the things that matter to me, where i can speak my own language. im travelling thru france with my family, with the opportunities to do whatever i want, have whatever i want (except you). but of course, i focus on the negative, something you always told me to try and change.

now our romance is reduced to text messages and the language barrier is so harsh without the kisses to soothe misinterpretations. so i listen to the music you burned for me, all the thought you put into it, and i try to believe that fate has my best interests in mind. i try to push down my tears, because i know there will be many cold nights to come when theyll be my only company. and not even the thought of you waiting for me will comfort me, because youve told me that its not possible to hold onto you from so far away.

it would maybe be easier if i felt i had any other friends left.

i know. its over as soon as i leave france. im surprised its lasted out of the boundaries of pau.
 
     
drowning past regrets
 
making myself sick   
11:11am 19/12/2006
  time is passing so quickly. im sure all the herb im smoking helps make it all the more surreal. i dont want to talk to anyone, i dont want to leave my bed. i dont want to think but i cant stop dwelling.
i should be ecstatic. why am i so pathetic? no one is worth this; hes no fucking god. but i cant shake it, and i know its just going to get worse.
i cant stay here. my heart really doesnt want to leave.
 
     
drowning past regrets