the fine line

It doesn’t make sense to like someone this quickly. She’s fascinating (maybe because she is new). She’s unbelievably kind (especially when compared to my past). She’s amazingly real and honest (which is refreshing). It’s only been six days since I met this girl.

I really may just be projecting some unresolved feelings onto her. I may be redirecting the pervading sense of loneliness into a gravitational pull towards her and her novelty. I may be just being emotionally reckless with her and my heart at the moment.

It’s only been six days, but I’ve been daydreaming for more. I want to meet her in person. I want to hang out with her. I want to listen to her sing and play the guitar live. I want to taste her cooking. I want to drive her around and just listen to her tell me all about her. It’s like I’ve met someone who seems to be a perfect placeholder in the empty space in my life that once held my ex-girlfriend.

That isn’t right.

I have to calm the fuck down. I don’t even know if she sees me as romantic potential or a friendly stranger. First things first, we just have to nurture the friendship. Talk more, get to know each other more, see if we really do get along.

But a strange part of me is already dreaming — probably the hopeless romantic in me that my ex-girlfriend apparently didn’t manage to kill after all.


unknown and exciting

I’m starting to remember how exciting new people are. Not that I’m willing to meet a whole group in bulk, but individual people themselves can be fascinating. Just learning their likes and dislikes, the kind of music they listen to, even if they just prefer cats or dogs — all those questions open up a whole nebula of characteristics that make them who they are. It’s so interesting.

I guess the only drawback I worry about is that, no matter how magical a person seems in the beginning, are we doomed to eventually see them through mundane glasses? Or is there some magical connection out there that can prevent that from happening?


That would be the best way to describe what I feel these days: “a hodgepodge of emotions”.

I feel like I’m standing in the middle of a race. I see the goal; it’s still so far away but I want to get there. Suddenly, the ground around me crumbles, and I am left standing on a stone pillar with a number of vague trails around me. Should I jump that way? Or maybe the other way? Then the goal seems even farther away out of my reach.

I want to move on.

One thing I admittedly really want is closure, but I don’t think I’ll be getting that anytime soon. This relationship was rather abruptly tossed out with the bathwater.

Hence, there are other options: be grateful, list down all the negative things and express, or just feel my way along.

I’ve mostly been doing that last option: feeling my way along. Some days, it’s easy to just lean back and think, “I should be grateful. For the end of a relationship and this new beginning. I should also be grateful for having even been in that relationship in the first place. It all happened for a reason.” Then, I get days when I just feel like a galaxy with the center ripped out and I’m spinning into myself.

what matters?

Three years didn’t matter.

Almost a year of being okay didn’t matter.

I’m left wondering what really does matter in the world. They, the rest of the world, always seemed to describe love as the epitome of all that is good. Perfect and worthwhile, but fragile. Painfully fragile. Once it’s gone, I’m left holding the shards and I realize that love is empty.

Love holds nothing inside. In its absence, nothing remains.

I feel like I’m searching for some meaning. I’m desperate to hope that the last three years of my life did not amount to nothing. All my soul-searching dives are coming up short. There is nothing there. It is not that I don’t believe that she cares. Whether she does or does not isn’t significant. What hurts is the realization that love and happiness really does have no guarantee.

As a human, I am essentially drawn toward the idea of permanence, anything to defy the concept of limited time. In the end, nothing is permanent. In the end, does anything matter?

Depressing meme of the day: