It's 10:30pm and I'm trying to write away the writer's block, to no avail. I'm trying to make sense of so many different emotions and thoughts at once that it's all become quite overwhelming. The main thought is about Luke and what I really feel for him. Have I convinced myself that he's this great thing simply because I enjoy his conversation? Have i convinced myself that he's the best person I'd ever met and ever will meet? I don't know. Maybe I just really like him. Either way, he's stuck in my thoughts. I've been trying to write him a song, to somehow win him back over to my side after the bad ending to our friendship. I had some of the best times of my life with him and I think I took it for granted because I instantly felt at ease with him. Maybe I felt I could control him because he was in awe of me for some reason. Maybe I was using him to soothe my loneliness. I don't know. But here I am, trying to figure out why he has such a hold on me, and why I can't seem to put the mess in my head into a structured song. Maybe it was never meant to be structured.
When we met, I wasn't expecting him to be such a comical character, and I liked it. He did accents a few times that actually made me rather uncomfortable, I think it was because I was too shy to do accents back, or maybe I didn't like the fact that he hid behind them. I don't think I've ever been a fan of accents, unless they were used briefly and in a joke of some form. I guess I don't really like jokes. I was slightly afraid of getting too close or letting him in on too much of my life details. I tried to hold back and be intimidating, but he saw right through it and I don't think I've really experienced someone that can tell when I'm faking. The more we hung out the more I started being intrigued by him. Eventually we slept together and at first it was really strange and uncomfortable for me, simply because I'm extremely insecure about how I look and who I am, but he made me feel quite comfortable. Yet, I still kept my walls up and refused to let him see my black and gooey insides. From there it all went pretty haywire. I couldn't make sense of my feelings and my head was spinning. The only time the noise was quiet was when I was on some sort of binge, most of the time alcohol. It was the only time I didn't worry about how I looked or what I weighed or how dumb my voice sounds or how severely sad I constantly feel. When I drank or did drugs, I didn't care if people liked me or hated me, I was content with being a million pieces of a person.
When Luke started telling me that my drinking was a problem, I fled. Because if somebody got to know who I really am, they would be the one's fleeing. Or at least, that's how I feel. I know that I am extremely pessimistic and sombre. It's the way that I have been conditioned by life. I do not choose to be this way, it's what comes naturally to me. Expecting the worst is my second nature. My instincts tell me to run far, far away the second I start feeling anything related to happiness. I'm terrified of my own creativity, my own love and my own self. Luke made me feel a lot of different things and made me understand even more things. About people and about myself. He was never afraid to reveal who he was. He was never afraid to be himself and be an individual and be happy. He thrived. And I envied him. And I was in awe of him. And it terrified me so I did my best to make sure he knows that I am beyond saving. Not that he ever tried to save me. More like, I don't want him to get to know me, I don't want him to know how tremendously sad I am every single day, I don't want him to ever see me cry myself asleep or cut holes into my flesh or look in the mirror for hours, trying to figure out where I lost myself. I don't want him to see me write this and cry. Or to see the last bit of happiness run from my face when I realize I am my mother - drunk,desperate for love and forever alone. I want him to remember me as the fascinating little thing he thought I was when he met me. I don't want anyone to ever know me again, because I can't have my heart broken again.
I don't want to be anybody's burden, but I don't want to pretend anymore. Does that mean I'll spend my days alone? I don't know.
