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quarta-feira, 18 de julho de 2012

Of butterflies and grasshopers (in english, sorry)

I just don't exactly have words lately.
No, that's a lie - I do have. But I feel like I don't.
I'll explain.
Although it is hard, hum.
I don't know exactly what I'm feeling, that's a fact. A week ago I was nervous because I sorta liked someone, and was trying not to. I was promising myself that I wouldn't tell him. I had no intention to do so because:
1) I've done this before and things go downhill when I do;
2) We have this really cool friendship and I rather lie than wreck this - once again.
So, you know, I'm used to misery and excruciating depression, but not to what I feel right now.
Have you ever felt happy and sad at the same time, for the same reason? I haven't. At least until now. I'm guessing it should be cool and comforting - the happiness as a balance to the pain - but is not. It's weird. I don't know this feeling and I don't know how it works.
Well, I did not explain. He guessed on his own and I was so surprised that I just confirmed. And I felt like crap because, surprise, surprise, he loves me as a friend. Well, that's exactly why I wasn't going to tell, because I knew that. And yet, of course you can blame on someone for not loving you back, it's not like you can choose this things.
And honestly, I wouldn't love me too.
Grr, I'm using the "L", word. Ok, let's use "like" instead of "love", ok?
The thing is, although I let myself drown in self-pity for a few good hours - about 19 of them - at some point, it struck me: why was I doing that? I was I acting like a spoiled child who didn't get what she wanted, like he had any obligation to like me, be concerned, to return my feelings. He didn't. And yet, he's my friend, godammit. He is pretty decent about the whole thing, you see.
So, I tried to be ok, and he told me to talk to him, that he would help me. He really tries. And at the moment, I thought I would be ok.
But now... I don't know. Doesn't sound that easy, ya know? I still feel that weird painfull torque on my chest. That heaviness. Like all the tears in the word were transported to my heart. You know that feeling, don't you?
Well. But now it's also fear. Because I know, I know he is a good person, and I know he is better than the "deaceased" also known as "he-who-must-not-be-named", but yet, I also know... I tend to bring up the worst on people.
I used to call it "tsunami factor". But it's not quite that. Tsunami factor is that incontrolable need I have of destroying everything and everyone until everybody can feel my pain but right now the only person I feel I could hurt is my self. Nah, I have stopped the tsunami factor a long time ago.
This is different. Is something darker. Stronger, but much much more subtle.
Like a physical darkness creeping around me, covering me around, making me feel more in the dark now that I'm seeking light. Yeah, I'm seeking light, almost without trying, because love - whatever it is, and I give up avoiding the word - has this strange way of making us wish to be better people, better versions of ourselves. This is something else I never felt before because I always felt like love was about erasing yourself or changing yourself completely for others. This is totally different from what I feel now.
Still, as much as I look for light, I feel this darkness approaching me, consuming me. Like it always did. A daily reminder of why I can't be happy, just like my scars: because I don't deserve it. I will never be worthy. No one will ever love me, and who could possibly love someone so broken, so damaged?
And I have to remind myself - I can't do this to him. Can't bring my darkness over other people as I have done for ages now. I have this horrible talent to find the darkness on others and force them to feel it. I tend to rob their light just because I can't have my own, despite what he says. He said the light I see in him he sees in me - and that's one of the reasons I think he is such a good person, to fool himself about me so easily. Once a friend call me a dementor - never happy always bringing everybody down with me. I never heard a more accurate definition of me.

So, about this strange feelings, I keep feeling like I don't have words, I tell people that I don't speak too much lately because I lack of words to tell what I feel, but that's not true - when I come here to this page everything flow from inside me. I made a new "normal" blog and I notice how hard and informal and wrong I am when I write there, and for a second I thought "what the hell?" but then I noticed - not here. And suddenly I knew what it was showing - because here I don't have to pretend to be someone else. I can be much more serious and formal and lyrical as I trully am, instead of playing the stupid dumb clown that I play to everybody else to pretend I'm ok.
Girls, later I post my url for you, the other blog is a blog for book reviews. I just don't want to link to this one just yet.

Thanks for listening, if you made until here.

PS: I read your comments, people, and I totally read your blogs through reader, and I know I should visit you and comment but I always forget or lack of time. But I love every and each one of you.

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