It’s not that I don’t want to write about how things are slowly changing, I just never seem to have the chance. Nowadays, my priorities are
survival elsewhere, and the written word isn’t the outlet I need anymore.
Besides, every time I try to get a thought on a page, I get lost in the scope. My thinking constantly goes further and further, as my understanding of the world moves beyond the things that affect only me. It’s made me a more patient, compassionate, and empathetic person. But by the time I figure something out, the feeling is gone, and words are no longer relevant.
I’ve been trying to leave my camera at home too, a way of forcing myself to savour each experience. It’s a delicate balance between that and my ever-present need to document everything. I’m discovering that memories aren’t as vivid as photographs, but they live longer in the implicit part of the mind, and both are food to an introvert nonetheless.
Days without a way to capture the world around me are never easy. I want to take pictures of sunlight and summer and sweat and sex, but life hasn’t been so much about events as the regularity. The moments I share every day with the people I need, or the time between when I’m recharging and healing. The things worth appreciating are more frequent, but all the more fleeting too.
The journey lasts an hour, by turns moving and bittersweet, a mixtape without a name that’s possibly the most thoughtful collection of music anyone has ever given to me. It’s the addiction I’ve been waiting for. Proof that I can still be understood when a feeling is shared if not a history.
Yet new songs on repeat don’t define this moment, cause I can’t tell when one moment ends and the next begins anymore. There’s no sense of permanence in anything. I don’t know whether to be scared or relieved to know that everything will inevitably change.
Shawn thinks I’m plummeting towards rock bottom cause I need to prove to myself that I can pull myself out. The idea was on the very tip of my consciousness, and it’s getting harder to deny how right he is. I’ve always been a person who needs to explore the limits of the possible. I just wonder whether I’ll survive the fall.
My relationships function best in a one-on-one context, when I’m giving a single person my full attention or vice versa. I see myself as the dominant most of the time. But power flows from the bottom up and I’m a pleaser too, so I frequently assume the submissive role cause I enjoy it (need it?) so much. Knowing that I can make people happy is something I thrive on.
At heart though, I’m a very dominant person, and I never realized I was missing an outlet for those tendencies until Shawn handed me the remote as we were about to watch Game of Thrones. He read me well enough to know that I enjoy taking care of little details, and he’s even more of a pleaser than I am, so he gave me control, even though I recognize that he’s the more dominant person.
Over time, I’ve become the one to do the talking, to decide what we do, to make the small choices that remind me I have wants and needs as much as anyone else. Shawn’s a person I respect, and he’s naturally “better” in the ways that are important to me, so being in control when we hang out has been really fulfilling. I’m getting better at speaking out about things that bother me and thinking of myself and being stronger in general.
I took a break from guitar. Not a conscious decision, just days that were busy enough that I didn’t think of picking her up, which means I don’t even know how long I’d stopped. All I know is that it was long, cause I feel the strings vibrating through every piece of wood that touches my body now, one of those sensations you stop noticing after enough time.
I haven’t had much to say either. Nothing seems important. At the same time, I’m trying to move away from this social media overload, where so many people speak only cause the power to do makes them believe they should. It’s making the gaps between my entries longer and longer, and I wonder if I’ll eventually stop writing altogether.
All I have are memories of lives I lived so long ago that I feel like I’m watching them in 8mm. The friends and the lovers, the love and the hate, the cycles and the patterns. I’m only now sorting out the meaning of each one, maybe cause I’ve finally grown enough to understand myself and my relationship with the world at large. It’s comforting to see how far I’ve come when comparing the person I am now to each person I used to be.
But such progress came at the cost of my innocence; we aren’t always ready to learn the harder lessons, and surviving sometimes means we change in ways that prevent us from becoming the people we’re meant to be. I’m trying to take back that innocence now, cause I know my happiness is at stake.
Summer has been overcast, if not rainy. It’s great. I can keep every window open, and the whole day feels like it’s a dew-soaked morning on the verge of a sunrise. It’s enough to make me believe that the real summer is never coming.
These days I’m still recovering, still learning to treat myself with compassion. Sometimes it’s a blurry line between that and procrastination. I don’t know how I feel about parts of my life, parts I never questioned before, and it’s a strange uncertainty to be carrying.
That means I don’t know how to act around most people, something I haven’t had trouble with since I was a kid. I’ve been avoiding most social contact, while spending time with the few people who know me well enough to hurt me. Sometimes it’s like walking on a tightrope, waiting to fall off. Everything is an exercise in vulnerability. Luckily, they’re the right people to help me through as well, the right people to put my trust into. This is how I learn to love again.
I’m learning to be selfish too, especially at a time like this. I’ve realized how important it is to be obliged to myself, instead of constantly putting aside my feelings for the sake of others. That means understanding what I need out of my relationships, instead of trying to make them what I thought they should be. Sometimes that also means making sure I spend enough time alone.