23 October 2005
Thoughts wander when you stand still
It is difficult to see myself through other people's eyes. The knowledge of what I was thinking when I said something, or what I was feeling when I did something, cloud my vision so that I cannot see past myself. It is that much harder to socialize since I so often feel the need to facilitate every detail of the things I do. This is what makes me so good at my job, I suppose, but not very much else I fear.
It is unfortunate that I find myself unable to get past the idea of having somebody else in my life to make me happy. Perhaps this stems from my lack of casual acquaintances for so much of my life, or possibly from my best friend also being someone who fulfilled this need for some time. It is odd that he is no longer such a huge part of my life, and although it has been several months I am still having difficulty adjusting.
I am certain that much of this insecurity stems from the fac that he has found another person to be happy with. My whole life, I have been told by various people how wonderful I am, how intelligent, beautiful, funny, interesting, nice, etcetera. Some part of me, deep down inside the inner workings of my soul, believed all of this. All she can say now is "It is not fair, I should have been first to find love."
I am finding myself trying to fill this unnecessary gap with other people. It is dizzying. I am compelled to keep these infatuations secret, telling few or none of my thoughts. I have made one pathetic attempt at pursuing one of these, heavily veiled and probably entirely unknown to the person it was directed towards. Of course, my attempts were quickly thwarted when this person also found another.
The most recent has been a very gradual feeling. So gradual, in fact, that I am not even certain there is any feeling to mention. I suspect this may just be that I am afraid of feeling something for this person when the feelings are not mutual. This has been a theme in my life, and it is not one that I enjoy. It is far easier to convince myself that people do not feel anything special for me than it is to think otherwise. I may be holding back my feelings because of it, yes, but how awful is that really?
I thought things were supposed to get easier as I got older. It seems as though everything is just becoming more complicated. Each day adds more worry to my load, and each week adds another responsibility to my already full plate. Sometimes I wish for a quick fix, but then I remember that is precisely the reason that I smoke cigarettes. Ah, tobacco - if only bad for you did not feel so good.
It is unfortunate that I find myself unable to get past the idea of having somebody else in my life to make me happy. Perhaps this stems from my lack of casual acquaintances for so much of my life, or possibly from my best friend also being someone who fulfilled this need for some time. It is odd that he is no longer such a huge part of my life, and although it has been several months I am still having difficulty adjusting.
I am certain that much of this insecurity stems from the fac that he has found another person to be happy with. My whole life, I have been told by various people how wonderful I am, how intelligent, beautiful, funny, interesting, nice, etcetera. Some part of me, deep down inside the inner workings of my soul, believed all of this. All she can say now is "It is not fair, I should have been first to find love."
I am finding myself trying to fill this unnecessary gap with other people. It is dizzying. I am compelled to keep these infatuations secret, telling few or none of my thoughts. I have made one pathetic attempt at pursuing one of these, heavily veiled and probably entirely unknown to the person it was directed towards. Of course, my attempts were quickly thwarted when this person also found another.
The most recent has been a very gradual feeling. So gradual, in fact, that I am not even certain there is any feeling to mention. I suspect this may just be that I am afraid of feeling something for this person when the feelings are not mutual. This has been a theme in my life, and it is not one that I enjoy. It is far easier to convince myself that people do not feel anything special for me than it is to think otherwise. I may be holding back my feelings because of it, yes, but how awful is that really?
I thought things were supposed to get easier as I got older. It seems as though everything is just becoming more complicated. Each day adds more worry to my load, and each week adds another responsibility to my already full plate. Sometimes I wish for a quick fix, but then I remember that is precisely the reason that I smoke cigarettes. Ah, tobacco - if only bad for you did not feel so good.
// posted by Liz @ 00:57 
