The Vagueness of Reality
Saturday 4th September, 2010 - 1:18pm with 0 comments
“I don’t want to kiss you just for the sake of kissing you. So I won’t. I think… I prefer you as a sister.”
I’m glad it’s not awkward anymore. I’m glad we don’t have to find privacy to talk to each other about anything that happened. I used to itch to talk to him about things and the way I felt, and then I’d be so hesitant about it, not feeling comfortable with even talking about it, and I used to get embarrassed to say anything as well.
Things are really different now. It’s not like every hug I get is symbolic of a deep desire or love that I cannot return, or I’d worry that something would happen that I’d regret, or I’d just worry about what could happen next.
No.
It’s not like that anymore. We love each other like good friends. It doesn’t leave me to the point where I’m frustrated. It doesn’t leave me hanging on some pathetic thread in the dubious lust I previously pertained, wanting more of something that was completely sinful. It doesn’t do that.
I enjoy his company. Like a friend and a brother.
We’re slowly going backwards to the little depths of a long gone February some six-odd months ago. Except we’re taking with us, a little bit of strength we gathered, and love we found from the pits of a once irrepressible passion… except, a love that would exist only in a world where problems are truly resolved by the sufferers.
We are in that world. And that’s what you call sibling love.
Posted in Blurbs, Contemplation, Friends | No Comments
August
Tuesday 24th August, 2010 - 5:22pm with 1 comment
I used to be a frail person, in personality and appearance. Thin hair, thin body, emotionally unstable. I overcame depression, and lately things were going really well. But then, things happen.
I think that sometimes when I’m upset, I come across the worst of myself, and I become that frail person again. Someone who hid behind the nickname “Gina”… someone who really, in essence, wasn’t me – or was just a phase of me at a certain point in my life. Sometimes I visit her and I tell her that she ought to be stronger.
Today, it was like she was there for me instead.
Yeah, I know… right now I’m different, I’m Georgie, and I’m stronger. I can punch and hit. I try hard not to cry. I don’t think of harming myself again. The latter never happens, ever. The former two, do.
I think, “Gina” taught me, never to do that again. But she didn’t tell me to stop crying.
Sometimes, there is solace in tears streaming down your face, or even just a few drops on your cheeks, or even the settling behind your eyelids. Crying lets all escape.
My pride, however, holds the capacity of my entire head. I was foolish and idiotic. I had time to think myself over and to think about what would be right. It wasn’t hard. It was the emotion. It was the feeling of crying – for once I didn’t listen to “Gina”; my pride got the fucking better of me, and my huge-ass ego just wanted to be someone who was so fucking arrogant.
And my feet took me away. Then I cried… then… then it hit me. You don’t realise how much you love someone until they’re gone. Gone a fair farewell, a sad goodbye, a trip away, passed away… or even, in the bitterness of nineteen words.
Posted in Blurbs, Contemplation | 1 Comment
Politeness through the looking glass
Saturday 21st August, 2010 - 12:59am with 0 comments
In regards to the previous post, now I want to address something.
Long story short: I couldn’t stand people thinking that Sebastian and I were a couple, which is a hundred percent not true, and furthermore, instead of asking me about it, asked one of my best friends Ryan, which I deemed utterly rude since they couldn’t even ask me myself, and in turn I found this insulting considering I saw these people as close friends.
Initially I thought I was overreacting completely. Eventually, I cried. I felt hurt, offended, and insulted. I started to feel fucking strange, because I have this horrible feeling that some of my friends can’t stand having me around, or don’t like me all that much anymore.
I don’t know what’s changed. My viewpoint, or theirs that I see, or theirs, period? It just enrages me that they know who I am, and that I have James, and… turn around and question my closeness to a friend. Oh.
Friday 20th August 2010: A friend said hello to me in class and apologised that he didn’t recognise me in the morning when I walked by, as I was not wearing the usual black stockings and heeled boots. I accepted his apology and he politely asked if Sebastian happened to be my boyfriend.
I answered the negative.
He understood, “Oh, he’s just a friend.”
I look back on that moment. Someone actually went out of their way to ask me a question relating to their curiosity. Politely. Instead of going off and fucking asking Ryan. Rudely.
That, my friend, is the difference.
Edit — 1:02am Ry & Sebby, thanks for being there for me. James, thank you, for everything. ♥