Blue

For some reason tonight, I've come down with a serious case of the blues. Mostly it's just feeling lonely and a wee bit disconnected. My roommate is doing her thing right now, and I think I might have isolated her a bit by explaining I might be rather anti-social with her fella who's coming in April to visit from England I think. I was only trying to explain to her that I wouldn't be trying to be rude or not like her guy by my hiding in my own room. It's just it will be a stranger and they're sort of doing some online dating thing is my guess. It's sort of like dating does not invite a third wheel. So mostly I give people space when they have someone like that in their lives, so they can really connect.  It's both a respect thing and a reticent to warm to new people thing. I'm sociable wolfy, but I have moments of skittishness. :S

The disconnect is also that I have work, I have classes that are actually working towards my degree, I have japanese all available around the house, I have books and movies, and I'm super busy with homework. Yet despite all this I'm not motivated worth a damn to do anything but lie down and stare at my ceiling or lie down period and maybe have a cry. Bleh. I don't understand it. Just don't feel right tonight.

I made a 7 year plan, of which I'm currently in year 2, and I made a 10 year plan to follow the achievement of the 7 year plan, and then I made a rest of my life plan after I achieve, the first 17 years worth of planning. Possibly less. I've gone to Scotland. I've really honestly well and truly accomplished more than I ever thought I could, but it mostly means nothing. I'm just doing stuff cause I have to. I can't live without a job, so I go to College to get a degree to get a job. I sit in class and I focus and I work hard, but all the while I'd rather be sitting somewhere in sunshine with a laptop open and me just typing for hours or reading for hours. I want to be able to go to a coffee shop and soak in the atmosphere. This life would have me racing a million miles and I just want to stroll. There are days when I do want to be super busy, but it's honestly just to drown the thoughts in my head. They're there everyday, so many reminders of loneliness, pain and regret, of rage so deep and frustration so keen and I can never get rid of them. Then there's the bane of my existence of false hopes, of wanting things I'm trying so desperately to give up and not need again.

So far I'm failing miserably at everything. I'm trying so hard to be just happy and I'm not more often than I am. I don't know the answer, I don't know the key, which is true of 100% of the world but people want what they can't have. I've isolated out what I can't have and trying to give it up and fulfill the time with other things I want, just not as much as what I really want.

For the life of me, all the jobs, classes, family and friends in the world cannot replace just wanting to be held for just a moment.  Just to finally let down all the years of built up defenses and to really truly and well believe someone when they tell me it's okay, someone else is taking charge. I won't have to be the sole person there for so many people, I won't have to work on not expressing myself, because so many people don't understand. It's like yeah I have my true self always forward, because I want people to take me as I am, but there is a vulnerable part reserved for just one person alone and I haven't found them. I honestly doubt they exist, but every now and again in silence, I just wish for once I could be a person to just choose anyone to hold me, to pet me and kiss my head and say you're all right, I'm here and not going anywhere. I'll watch over you. It has to be believable or It won't matter and that's the problem in a nutshell. No one says that anymore, no one truly cares that deeply about someone else to be that knight in dim armor, with a lot of dings and bruises on their own, but willing to be yours alone.

Some days I love reading and other days I curse the day I ever picked up a first semi-romantic book that planted that thought of something like that could happen in real life. It doesn't and it's what I cannot bury no matter what I do. So I write blogs, purge it into the pensieve and seal the thought and leave it for the next time I'm attacked by the blues.