When you stopped loving me, I stopped eating

Is it stupid of me to check the mailbox, hoping you'll send something? I desperately want you to try and save our relationship. Do you care? Sometimes I sit in class or on the subway and cry because I miss you so much. There's so many things I don't understand. What do you mean that we both knew when you said "I love you" it didn't mean the same thing as when I did? How can you throw away everything we had after we went through so much together? Doesn't it mean anything to you that I flew to you twice to comfort you when you're dad died? Who else did that for you? I question everything now. I wonder if you meant one thing when you said another. How would things have been if you had left the country, something I didn't think that I wanted until now? Are you going to try? God, please tell me you're going to try and reach out to me. When will it stop hurting so damn much? WHY ARE YOU SO SELFISH?! Why don't you love me anymore? You said you'd love me forever.

Why shouldn't we be with the one we really love?

I have never been one to understand matters of the heart. i'm terrible at reading people and because I am so upfront and frank, I cannot understand why others are not. I thought that I had found someone who loves me, who gets me, who wants to be with me. Yet I feel her pulling away again. i can't understand why it is always 2 steps forward and three back. it's as if everytime she is vulnerable or opens up to me, she clams up twice as much. every time i feel like we're finally going to be together she distances herself. i can wait, i really can, but i dont see why we should. when u find someone you connect with on such a deep level, why would you not want to be with them? why is it 'we should just kiss and get it over with' one day and 'you gotta get over me' the next? it just doesn't make sense. i know she wants to protect me from herself, because she has a history of walking away, i know she thinks we want different things, i know she thinks our age difference is too big. i know i think about her all the time, that she makes me happy, that i miss her when i dont see her everyday... my friends are probably right, she probably is playing with me...messing with my mind. i don't know who to open up to anymore. i feel alone.

The world often spins without me. I've come to this conclusion only recently when I found events happening beyond my control. One moment I am tied to the city until March, and the next I am going to NC for the weekend. I am constantly busy with nothing to do. I feel as if I all too often waste precious moments and find myself overwhelmed when they are gone.

The room around me is a mess of papers, clothes, and crumbs, but it is not my place to clean it. I cannot understand how people live like this, as I am continually picking up after myself (and the various men in my life). I cannot complain, though, because this is the mess of very good people. I could never say anything bad about people who bend over backwards to help me. I feel priveleged to even know them.

Work is calling only a bit louder than this diary. If I could get paid to type on this site I would. But, alas, it will never happen. So, without further ado, back to the real world.

Something Brand New

We're running late and all that stands between us and this revelation is a legion of stairs. By the time we arrive at our seats, we've missed the opening song. I hear a familiar rift and know what's next. I am not surprised to hear Sowing Season (Yeah), it is the voice singing that takes me back. The cd is nothing compared to the voice that is aching into the microphone. His energy seems desperate, as opposed to excited. "I'm not you're friend, I'm not your lover, I'm not your family." Is he attempting to convince himself? The songs keep coming with only a word or two in-between. It was his homecoming, and he ised it as his fuel. The show takes an unexpected turn when Jessey falls to the floor, writing and playing. His soul is poured out through the notes. It is only him and his demons. We are spectators to his torment. Then he is alone in the spotlight, squatting and pleading into the microphone. "Sing to me" he cries. This is met with screams and cheers from the audience. "Sing to me!" I take a deep breath to yell to him, and it catches in my throat. It catches in all of our throats. Collectively we feel the need and desperation in that sentance, collectively we are quieted. "Say something! Say something to me! Sing to me!" It is quiet as we wait for direction. "LIE TO ME!" A pin drops and rings in our ears. Such silence has never before been heard in a crowd of 20,000. A single thought is shared; "No Jessey. I don't want to lie to you". Each of us feel as if the request is personal, none of us feel capable of fufilling it. In that moment he has touched the center of ever person in the stadium. Through his request, we are all changed. Then, the moment is over and the songs go on. Yet, at the end of the set, it seems as though the band has resigned. The drummer half-heartedly throws his sticks, the band walks off dejectedly. We are left with Jessey on guitar. The stage is his alone, the audience captivated. He untangles himself from his guitar strap and throws his guitar into the drum set. This isn't the same feeling of the London Calling cover, angry rebellion, it is defeat, it is hopelessness, it is the demons winning. Lacey walks off stage, the lights come up, and we breathe again.

I can't wrap my tongue around it

In a whirlwind week I've gone from expectedly single to fooling around with someone to having a boyfriend. boy.....friend...the thought of it is all too much. I'm just letting things flow right now, how can I tell him that I have doubts? He seems so sure of it all, so sure that I am some amazing creature. I know I'm not. I'm scared.....in the end that's the truth.

A Founding Myth

Are there words to describe what I've been going through? Depression is sinking into me, tarnishing the smile I try to flash. I am continually amazed that people cannot see past the facade I have erected. Does anyone even care to try and see what's really going on in my eyes? Have I become so skilled at hiding everything that no one knows what I look like when I express honest emotions? I shudder to think that my sour mood may affect those who I spend the most time with. Is my pain infectious? The world seems to be falling apart around me, and I am forced to grasp the shards of what's left. My father has abandoned my brother. How can I choose between the two men who raised me...the two men who abandoned me? I still ache from the memory of the day my brother ran away. Lying on the floor, wraped in the only thing he left behind, crying for the only person who hadn't left me yet. He was all I had left, and now there is nothing, there is no one. "Smile, Holly, smile. You are the rock. Hold it all together." When the floor gives out, there won't be anything to catch me. I've almost convinced myself that I don't need anyone. "I am a natural wanderer, a loner, someone who prefers the solice of solitude." Music has become the only thing that can hold me. I find that I flinch at human contact. I don't even like people to sit or stand near me. Do others live like this? I can't fathom this being normal. Do others cry in the shower? Tears cleansed by the falling water, the sobbing covered by the sound of the fan sucking up the steam and hope. It's almost two years to the day that I ran away. December is my month of pain. Like the pain of the anniversary of a death, I feel the aching in my core. Have I not gone forward? Have I not grown? Will there be a December where I won't crave the dark? Nothing satisfys me. What can fill the gaping hole that a life of cruelty has created? Will fate ever stop spitting on me? I've become a fatalist, uncomforted by the things that once made me smile. There's an influx of tears. Why doesn't anyone see the streaks on my face?! Why doesn't anyone notice?! Why am I comforted that they don't? I go "home" soon. I will find enjoyment in the familiarity of my home and family. I will once again become the glue that holds the shards together, the rock filled with space. And then January will come.

Spring?

A bit of warm weather has spread across NYC. Today it seemed like the first day of spring after a long winter. Depression has been aching on the edges of my subconscious, and I needed this boost to keep me going until I can go home. I love this city, but it begs for unhappiness. I feel unsatisfied as of late, and cannot figure out what it is that haunts me. I suppose it is general lonliness, made all thhe more obvious by my friend's complaints of being single. Things like this shouldn't be brought to my attention. I suppose another factor is my restlessness. I have been tied to this city since mid-August, and if I am not allowed to roam I feel anxious. I almost feel as if the city is trying to strangle me at times, to take my will and destroy it. So, this change in the weather has brought me muc happiness, as well as constantly listening to The Cure. Today is Friday, so let's hope for love.