Log in

No account? Create an account
entries people I don't yell at while driving a bigger calendar empirical value windchaser-dot-org previous previous next next
I think I'm going to be sick... - Salvador Dali in a lawn chair.
I'm invisible without 3D glasses.
I think I'm going to be sick...
The worst part is that the protection of two years of not seeing him face-to-face, 400 miles of distance, and the bliss of being madly in love with someone else is pierced when a memory comes back into focus, or a conversation meanders across his name, or even a stray reference finds its way to me on the web.

Then I see a picture of him, with someone else, smiling, back at feast, in the tavern, like that whole engagement thing with me never happened. Yet I sit here with a whole chunk of my life missing, a gaping span of years where my life stopped, my education stopped, my friendships put on hold.

It makes me want to desperately put it all in writing, lay the guilt on the paper with the blackness of ink, exposed in the whiteness of text. I want them to read it, those who blamed me for his leaving solar, for his burned bridges, for his fear. I want them to know the whole story, my story as well as his, not the one written after the fact, after I was gone. Not that anyone cares about it anymore, except me. I never had the chance to speak.

And now I don't know where he's living, what he's doing, if he really is seeing someone new. When I realize how little I know about him anymore, this man I spent four years of my life with, I feel like I've lost control of my own life, too. My stomach gets slippery, like it's going to turn inside-out and my face feels hot, and all the happiness I've rebuilt in my life starts to shake like the buildings in a shanty town in the rumblings of an earthquake.

mood: achy
music: Tori Amos - Silent All These Years

9 Voices in a Chorus | Lift Your Voice Aloft
kacarson From: kacarson Date: February 24th, 2004 06:36 am (UTC) (link)

Nostalgia can be a powerful thing, and it can even be a good thing, in certain circumstances. Most often it reminds us of how we have changed, though, and we humans hate change. It gets better. I promise. Never as soon as you want it to, and almost never in the way you expect, but it does get better. And, as a one who has, myself, been through that very situation, I should know.

Take care, Ginger. And try to keep your head up, Mr. Right may be just around the corner...
lost_angel From: lost_angel Date: February 24th, 2004 08:44 am (UTC) (link)
Oh but Mr. Right is not just around the corner. I'm living with him. I know you're far removed from us and miss all the information, but I've been with zordac for about a year now, I guess, officially, even though I've cared for him much longer.

I'm not looking for someone to replace Rickwood. I've already got someone, and he's more than just a replacement. I love zordac in a way that has redefined love from what I'd thought I'd known.

This post is about the shock I felt at how upset I was with myself when I realized I didn't know the first thing about Matt's new life. Bleh, long, convoluted statement.

Late for class. Gotta dash.
lost_angel From: lost_angel Date: February 24th, 2004 08:45 am (UTC) (link)
But thank you for your sweet, encouraging, wonderful comments all the same. I understand the heart that's behind them.

birdofparadox From: birdofparadox Date: February 24th, 2004 07:15 am (UTC) (link)
I know that feeling.


Hang in there: revisionist history is a bitch.
lost_angel From: lost_angel Date: February 24th, 2004 08:47 am (UTC) (link)
::prolonged hug then a mad dash for the door with backpack over her shoulder::
drucinda From: drucinda Date: February 24th, 2004 08:14 pm (UTC) (link)
Oh honey, I'm sorry you're feeling down. I get nostalgic myself sometimes and it is easy to get sucked down into it but we have far too many promising tomorrows to get sucked into yesterdays, especially when we can't change them (or even want to).

lost_angel From: lost_angel Date: February 25th, 2004 06:33 am (UTC) (link)
So true, so true. I think about you and your big, fuzzy guy, too, but at least through livejournal and I see how you're doing. Thank you for always being so sweet to me.

::hugs Mo-bear::
gsan From: gsan Date: February 24th, 2004 09:47 pm (UTC) (link)
There's something about staring at a picture of a face you'll probably never see again.
There's something about seeing a phone number you probably shouldn't call.
...or an address it'd be so easy to send a postcard to.
...or old emails you wouldn't know how to respond to.
...or an old letter you don't have to read to remember.

There's something about thinking about someone and realizing that you will never talk to them again. You'll never know how they are, where their life is going, whether they are happy, whether they have someone...

or if they even remember you.

*hug* I hope you can forget someday, hon. And, of course, that your life stays happy enough that you never want to remember. That's really the best that can be hoped for, isn't it?
lost_angel From: lost_angel Date: February 25th, 2004 06:28 am (UTC) (link)
You explained it perfectly...like the feelig of a phantom arm, the nerves still tingling after it was cut off, the feeling that you're completely cut off from someone whom you used to share a life with, a future with. Now even the past is off limits because it's so different from the present.

And yes, you're right about the point of it all, too, to be so happy that you never want to look back at all. I sometimes forget how intuitive you are, or how much you know about life, until you explain something so poignantly that I'm reminded all over again exactly how amazing you are. :)
9 Voices in a Chorus | Lift Your Voice Aloft