When I look into your eyes
I can see a love restrained
But darlin' when I hold you
Don't you know I feel the same
'Cause nothin' lasts forever
And we both know hearts can change
And it's hard to hold a candle
In the cold November rain
Siren's Song
Friday, January 16, 2004
Right now I just feel like hugging him. Like I did after I ran across the road. I wanted to, but I didn't, for fear of him pushing me aside, just so very afraid that I might do something silly to exacerbate the situation or add on to the tension that was already there. I really didn't know what to do. I didn't know what to do and I had to concentrate on pushing back the tears that threatened to flow out in torrents. Quick fix and deep breaths didn't do any good either. The effort to control my own feelings only created an awkward and uncomfortable silence that lasted through the later part of the bus ride home.
I wanna tell him how relieved I felt when we finally strolled down Botanical Gardens together, that I felt frail and feeble in her presence, and that my hands were shaking when I helped her pack up the place. I felt so small, so diminished, that I wished I could fade into the wallpaper or vanish in a puff of smoke on the spot.
Am I over-sensitive, or has she never looked at me in the eyes before? And I mean never. Not one single time. Not even after all the encounters I had with her. Never.
I looked at him, and I looked at her. But I can't see myself.
Am I being slowly influenced by him, so much so that I've assimilated what he thinks about certain issues and how he treats certain things? Am I not, in my own words, more disciplined than him when it comes to handling bitter memories and necessary burdens of the past that each one of us is doomed to carry?
I tell myself it doesn't matter. Mind over matter - If I don't mind, it doesn't matter. Wasn't that the mantra I always chanted to myself in the face of adversities? Wasn't that what I told him the night when he first held my hand? So why the hell am I still affected by her?
Or am I not?
Maybe I've always been like that. Out of sight, out of mind. Ears hear not, heart shows not. Alrights I came up with the second part myself. If I don't voice how I feel, no one would ever know right? Then I'll forget about the whole incident, and it'll seem like nothing has ever happened.
I guess I'm always caught up in my own world, perpetually self-absorbed, forever oblivious to the existence of other people around me. I confess I have an extremely low EQ. I really do. I need to install a filter between my mouth and my head. I say things that hurt people, and it takes me a long long time to find out that I've actually done something emotionally detrimental with my words. It's almost like stuffing my two pockets with thumbtacks, then walking blithely and carefreely, preening and prancing, whistling and skipping, totally unaware that those piercing sharp metal pieces are deviously dropping outta my pockets. Then some unfortunate soul comes along and steps on them, and grabs me by the shoulders and chew my head off.
Yet I am guilty. Mea culpa. The thumbtacks shouldn't be there in the first place. I dare not carry any more of those stuff. Yet how can I ever be sure that my pockets are empty of them? The alternative would be to walk gingerly, careful not to let any sharp object fall out.
I'm not making much sense here. I can't be. That much I acknowledge. I also pronounce myself an emotional imbecile and insensitive girlfriend.
I've got no idea how it came to such a standstill, or why he hollered at me all of a sudden. Wait, let me correct myself, I DO understand why, but at that point in time I felt slapped in the face.
My mind is like a tub of batter for marble cake now. Twirls of cream and chocolate in one cake tin; two separate issues sharing one blog. They take turns emerging as the winner in a WWF style challenge inside my head, hence the seemingly incoherent entry I've presented here.
I couldn't breathe. I said, "Hush..." Yet he went on and I was pushed into a corner. I felt like slamming my head against the glass pane to break free. I really didn't know how to answer his scenario question. Don't ask me why, I just really couldn't. Perhaps that just me. Like he said I almost always react the same way in all other situations. I factor in too many things to try to get an answer.
Just one other time I cried because of a misunderstanding in front of someone I was in a relationship with. That was before I was due for a three-week long expedition, and SR was ten minutes late for a date. I never was patient with him to begin with, having to fly off the next day just made things a hundred times worse. But crying, because he, or something that he said or did drove me to tears, on the spot and in front of him, was something I never had in mind.
I wish I had locked up the floodgates and remained nonchalant. If there's anyone I look down on, I despise myself for crying in front of him.
He's got a brilliant mind. His thoughts have always intrigued me, energized me, and kept me thirsting and lusting for more. How could I ever look down on his thoughts and the going-ons in his head?
I can never hope to be on par with him. He intimidates me sometimes. I'm almost always left choking in the dust and quietly reflecting "Aikes, I never really know that things are meant to be done or said this way." I'm learning, from him. From him, I feel a kind of stress and pressure that no other teacher has exerted on me before. I feel that I'm nowhere good enough. I'm afraid of doing the wrong things, and saying the words that are not pleasing to his ears. I am in fear of failing him in everything that I do.
I feel crippled and mangled and maimed. I feel pathetic and dejected and worthless. As I feel this way I feel even more compelled to look down on myself for having such low esteem. And I feel disgraced by myself for crying in front of him.
