School starts today for the publicly educated (at least in my district). It's odd, realizing that I am not one of them; that I have moved on to a world that doesn't follow the rules of state, or of a district, but of real life. A college starts and ends when it wants. Classes are how teachers want them to be, not how a board of supervisors and a necessary test deem it. No, college decides what grade letters to use (like E instead of F) and what days the students get off. Every college is like an ecosystem, operating with all the life forms. It interacts with National Holidays, students, professors, administrators while still holding a delicate balance between it and the other ecosystems.
Isn't it odd how people regret the smallest actions? I used to get coffee two to three times a week every week for an entire year. Eventually, the woman who worked there in the morning began to remember my drink and we usually chatted for a few minutes and kept up with each other. At one point, I had decided to try something new on the menu, and on that one day, she made my drink when she saw my car and when I came to the shop and she asked, "White mocha blended?" and showed me that she had made it. I define this as, probably, the first selfish thing I have ever done. I told her I wanted to try something else that day. Every time I see her now, I regret that moment. I should have just taken the drink and been so pleased that she cared enough to remember me: my name, my drink, my life. She listened; she didn't just hear it. Everything I did in that half-a-second was wrong. What came over me to make me deny her? Why didn't I just get both? Why was I so rude and selfish? Sometimes I sit around and senselessly ponder what I could have done differently; I inspect every element (that I can remember) and think of the finite possibilities of what I could have done.
That was one small moment in a million, and yet I regret it so vehemently that it cuts me like fresh wound every time I see her. She doesn't seem upset about it, but it always, and might always, bothered me that I pushed down the compassion that I looked for.
I suppose when I was typing this blog at eight or nine-ish, I was feeling jealous. I knew that there were other girls around, my competition. How could I not be jealous? He spent his time chatting with them, and I get put in the background, silently accepting/understanding my place. It's getting harder for me to let go.
Something weird is going on. I don't know how or what is happening. If I'm you, then who is me online? Who posts my name, or maybe just the word, online? I'm afraid. After my facebook was violated, everything because very risky, and the fact that there's more craziness is causing me to panic. I haven't done anything odd or out-of-the-norm online. Funnyjunk, facebook, and gaia are all that the online world sees, mostly. Now I have no idea what's safe anymore.
'Trust broken and fell,
the rules of one and two violated her.
Pity I take, but why her?
What is our connection at one?
Who cries in Lithuanian?'
Just don't think about it. The more you do, the more it's going to hurt. You can't stop this. I know it hurts; I'm here with you. I know it breaks you up inside to listen to him talk about this girl being everything you can't be and I know it's hard to fall to the way things should be. But like everything else you've learned in life, you must simply accept your actions and your past-things will work themselves out from there.
And here it is, where the fighting begins because you know that you're wrong. I can't help it; these matters of the heart are not for me to share. I should clam up and never speak of this again.
It's his life. Let him live it.
"Then don't ask. Don't tell me I'm not allowed to have my own opinions and my own feelings. And don't you ever try to tell me I can't feel replace because I'm not your girlfriend."
"Give me that fucking hammer, before I use it on your head." Uh, wow, I don't think that appropriate. Out of everything he's ever said to us, I've never heard him talk like that. Not only that, but he just talked about bashing a skull in with a hammer-threatened it, in fact. Is this really what it's come to? Death threats? Well, life certainly has it's hypocrisy. He said he would never be like him, never do what he did. Sometimes it feels like the only difference was between being sober. I wonder what would happen if he did drink... Situations like this make me fear for life.
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