anotherlongshot (anotherlongshot) wrote,
anotherlongshot
anotherlongshot

The Bitter Taste of Regret

I apologise for these horribly tedious and repetitve entries, but I am unfortunately stymied by my emotions and the failure of my period to arrive so that it can whisk me from this emotional blackhole that seems to feed on itself as it expands with each passing day instead of contract. In short, these entries are boring as fuck and self-indulgent and awful but I feel like shit now and it's my LJ so I will write whatever I want.

I had a dream last night, or two nights ago, of making plans to meet G. I woke up and it hit me all over again that he's gone and I think it really is the moment when you wake up and have to remember all over again that the thing that has importance to you is gone that sucks the most. The moment before you fall asleep, too, closing your eyes and seeing the person that you want to stop thinking about, seeing, in the darkness of your mind's eye, the memory of you and him lying in each other's arms just a week ago (your fingers lightly tracing his shoulder, eliciting words of contentment from him: That's very relaxing) and then feeling this treacherous desire for him to be next to you; to feel him next to you; to feel his arms around you...maybe that is partly why I make myself stay up late and go to bed only when I'm absolutely falling asleep, so that I'm almost instantly asleep when my head touches the pillow. Unfortunately, it doesn't always work. It's only a matter of how much time I spend before I fall asleep thinking about him.

I am paralysed by the fundamental conflict between my feelings and my thoughts. I miss him, I can't stop thinking about him, there's very little that I want more right now than to see him. And yet, I am afraid of what a breach of this silence would do to me. I am not yet at a place where I can have no expectations of his replies, of him still feeling the same way; I am not ready to be hurt again by this volatile romance that we had.

This inaction, though - is it like the inaction at the airport? My failure to say what I really wanted to say? My being rooted to the spot after he let go of me and briefly turned back and I felt this urge to run up to him but I didn't? I wish I had. I wish I had told him that I hoped we'd see each other again. I wish I hadn't been bought over by - I don't know, my pessimism, my fear, my mind, whatever it was that was telling me it was pointless. The same thing that keeps telling me it's pointless. For fuck's sake, how can this be pointless? How could I have told him that it was pointless for him to see me in England?

I think it's probably true that I romanticise this in my head, which is probably facilitated by the sheer drama that it produced due to a combination of his hot and cold behaviour (which he said was the product of him trying to suppress his feelings) and my own...girlishness. I am a girl. I feel too deeply. I cannot see the larger picture because my feelings keep getting in the way; they create a thick fog that hang over my eyes and I cannot see through it. All that I can think about is how I felt when we were together, how I felt (and still feel) about him, how much I regret that emotional conversation on Thursday during which I said things that I didn't properly think through, how I wish I'd kept it open. How I wish I hadn't been so fucking categorical about it. You either want to be with me or you don't; that was what I said among other things. Even if it's not untrue, seriously, shouldn't the law have taught me that there are always grey areas? What did I really expect from him after a month? I knew that he wouldn't commit, and it wasn't like I didn't have my own reservations. But why were there only two options in my head?

Fuck this shit. This is a horrible day. The PAP has a landslide victory in the election, hence taking back democracy in Singapore at least a decade, and I woke up feeling shitty. The only saving grace is that Roger is in the final of the US Open but he'd probably lose his third grand slam final in a row to Djokovic.

Fuck this shit. I'm going to take a shower. I am so sick of myself.
Tags: g, general election, general election 2015, roger federer, tennis, us open
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