Leaving Butterfly
The moment to decide that you don't really know how to fly a plane is not when you are sitting in the cockpit, hurtling through the air at thousands of miles an hour. If you find yourself in such a position, you had better assume that you have had SOME training, that you must know something - and that you CAN get the thing safely to where it needs to be. Right now, you are doing something that is tricky. Despite your fears, though, it is still something that you are perfectly qualified to handle. Save your self-doubt for a safer, more appropriate moment.
That's reassuring. Except you better hope that it means the whole mother family thing that I will be equipped to deal with, rather than just going on a week holiday.
All that seems to happen is that she yells at me. Deep down she loves and cares for me. I know that. She knows that. And she is at a loss sometimes to explain why she's continually yelling at me. There seems to be no resolution. No resolving this problem. No perfect solution. But as my boyfriend pointed out to me last night, it may well turn into a self-fulfilling prophecy where everything will turn into my fault if I just let things be. If I let it all slide, run away, and then just lie to her. I have to be honest.
That what? I want to move out? That I want to spend nights at my boyfriend's house?
*sigh*
Going to be away for a week with no Internet access. Let's hope it's a good week.
Winning Butterfly
"Mighty oaks may grow from tiny acorns, but giant problems can sometimes develop rom little whims and fancies. What seeds are you sowing this weekend? Consider the long-term consequences of a tempting course of action. Remember, too, that you've already made an investment that now needs time to pay-off. In meeting a short-term need, you must be sure that you are not compromising long-term strategy. A moment's thought will soon show you what's safe"
Great, so does that mean it'll be a good or bad week for my annual leave? I graduate next Friday, and mum hates me right now. Well, maybe not hate. But definately unhappy. She's essentially leaving me to my own devices. Which is both a good and bad thing. A blessing in disguise as well as just plain ol' hell for me.
Gonna have to be brave sometime huh?
I'm just tired.
Going out tonight and spending the day with him tomorrow. Just going to enjoy this while it lasts. Everything else can wait. If this is my short term payoff that compromises the long-term strategy, so be it. I'm tired of second-guessing. I don't know what to do anymore.
Different people tell me different things. If I sit there and get all morose about stuff all it does is make me unhappy. I speak to other people who tell me that it is essentially 'her choice' to be upset. I am not responsible for her happiness. The only person that I can win with when it comes to happiness, etc, is me. No one else.
So if I take this advice, all that needs to happen is for me to be happy. Because deep down we all know that mothers just want their children to be happy. Yet there is also an unspoken rule that you should keep your mothers happy, if only because they were responsible for creating the type of person you are today.
So where is the happy balance? To be frank, I don't see one.
All I see is me either doing things her way and suffering from other people pointing out that my mother rules my life; or doing it my way, whereby I'm happy and so is he, but she is not. It just seems that I can't win.
Brave Butterfly
It's all false bravado. I tell myself these days that she can say whatever she wants and I'll be ok with it, because I know that she loves me.
When in actual fact, deep down I'm absolutely terrified. Terrified of upsetting her anymore than I already have. I turn down work functions in order to gain some normalcy into my life. To reassure her.
But where I am in this whole quandry? Where do I fit in? Where do I sit? How stable am I really? She wants both my feet planted on the ground. She wants me to be to be a 'good' citizen. Someone worthy of respect. Someone who can wield power. I just want to flit around. Stopping every once in a while for a drink. Flying by the seat of my pants. Living an existence that doesn't necessarily require much substance. I just want it all to go by. And I'll join in when I feel like.
I just feel so helpless right now. And I'm not supposed to be. He once said to me that one of the best features about me was that I was sure of myself. That I knew what kind of person I was. And that deep down I was happy with myself. That I don't hold all the insecurities that other people have about themselves.
It's all a facade. Any minute now the bricks will all tumble down, and I'll just crack and crumble.
I can't hold on for much longer.
Virginal Butterfly
She chucked a fit tonight. Over the fact that I'll be spending one night out with my boyfriend - with cousin in tow. "Why can't you love yourself?" "Why do you always want to spend your time outside of home?"
What am I supposed to say? "Yes I'm sleeping with him. And I want to spend time with him."
I don't dare invite him to my graduation. Even though if he did come she wouldn't really object. I just figured that she would be happier if I didn't invite him. Even though I will only graduate once. "Who is he to be involved in your life with your cousin?"
He's my boyfriend, mother. He wants to be part of my life.
Will he forgive me if I don't invite him?
It never crossed my mind to invite him until he mentioned it.
He wants to be part of every facet of my life. He wants to be involved with me. Yet I get the feeling that my mum would be happier if he wasn't. I guess she wants me all to herself. Because she knows that there will come a day when she will have to let go.
Yet, I can't help but want the best of both worlds. Even though I know that realistically, that can't really happen.
"How can I trust you when all your actions bely my trust?"
Then don't trust me. But even if you don't trust me, you have to admit that my life is my own. You think that I don't love myself. That by sleeping with a guy that means that I've essentially thrown my life away. Tell me, how many 30 year old virgins do you plan to find?? How many guys are happy to marry one? On top of which, I *want* to experience sex. I *want* to
give myself like that. I *want* to love and care about someone and share a part of myself. Something that not everyone can necessarily have.
And while yes, I agree that being in the relationship I am right now, part of me wishes that I had held back on the whole virginity thing until now. Because I would have liked to have given that to him. But I can't. And to be honest, in some ways I'm also glad that I don't have to go through that whole rigamorale all over again.
I guess in a way the whole virginity thing never meant that much to me. And giving it away even to someone who I didn't necessarily truly love didn't mean that much. Perhaps because I knew that to the person I gave it to, it meant a lot. I have been very lucky in a way. All the guys I've dated have been serious about me. Have been genuine in their affection. Have never made me feel cheap, used or unwanted. They have given me the security to feel like it's ok. Like it's right to sleep with them.
Or maybe deep down I really don't love myself. Deep down perhaps I hate what I am, I don't understand what it is I am, and so I throw it all away. Because I have no true feelings about myself I let me be guided by others. Societal norms dictate that sex before marriage is acceptable. Even, expected. The virginal bride is no more. Yet there are still plenty of girls who plead abstinence. Many who fight against it, and say 'no.'
I'm not one of them. Sex does not make me feel ashamed about myself. Sex does not make me feel belittled. I don't know if I'd go so far as to say that sex makes me feel empowered. All I know is that I view sex like I view kissing or holding hands. A natural progression in the interaction between a boy and a girl. I've never placed a price on my virginity. Not really. Perhaps I sold myself short, but what is done, is done. And I don't really regret it. Maybe I'm all messed up inside. Maybe I don't love myself like my mother wants me to love myself. But that's just her wish for me. It's not that I'm rejecting family. I want my family. I want their love and acceptance of me taking care of my own life. I want control of my own life.
At the same time, it seems these days that what they want for me isn't what I want. Even though they are only keeping my best interests at heart.
I just wish I could sit down and tell them. Tell them that I'm sleeping with him. Tell them that I want to spend weekends at his house. Tell them that I want to go on weekend retreats with him. Tell them I want to go overseas with him. And tell them that even though I'm going out with him, and even though I'm sleeping with him, that family still matters. That I will still be her daughter, that I am still partial to this family. That I still love them.
I just feel bad that here I am trying to incorporate him into my family, bit by bit by bit, and there I am going to not invite him to my graduation. The only justification that I have is that it might be too difficult for him to get there. Our car will be full. Getting to where my graduation is, is a *pain*. An Absolute Pain. So I have that in my favour. But if I let him in, if I invite him, he might call me on my bluff. And if that's the case, well, better and safer not to do it. I've done and said enough stupid things in the last week. No need to continue staying on a sinking ship.
He was right that evening when it all came to a head. When he confronted me and told me up front that it was impossible for me to chart the middle road when it came to my love life. "Why can't you stay? Why do you have to go home? What's the point of pretending propriety, when it's so not?"
The thing perhaps that we need to constantly remind ourselves, or I need to constantly remind myself, is that it has only been three months. Not even, if you sit down and count it out. two months and three weeks. It'll be three months on Friday. If we have all the time in the world, why do we rush? You have stopped the mad dash. But I'm still on the treadmill. You
suddenly stopped and did a 180 last week. And I want to know why. I want to know what brought about the sudden change. What brought about the understanding. What clicked that suddenly made you so open, or at the very least so willing to compromise?
That last night when I brought myself to ring you to question your decision to move closer to me, you admitted that you chose to be with me. You wanted to. It was your decision to move near me.
I know this relationship is serious.
Mum thinks this is just a passing fling for you. She worries and is anxious about me. She doesn't want me to fall too badly.
And I am still too protective of my inner thoughts and feelings to admit to her that I could ever fall for anyone. I don't want her thinking I am any more vulnerable than I really am.
This dishonesty isn't working. At the same time, honesty doesn't seem to be the best policy. As much as I want it to be.
What's the worst that could happen? She won't disown me. She'll just be unhappy. And it's her choice to be unhappy, not me. Ultimately she just wants me to be happy. That is all. Nothing more, nothing less. The only person I am responsible for is me. Because I have no control over anyone else. I can't win. They have their own thought processes. Their own beliefs. But me, I can win with me, because I am the only person that I have full and total control over. Me.
So I'm not inviting him to graduation. Will he get upset at me over it? That I never really invited him? That I never gave him the chance to say yes or no? While logically, logistically it will be too much of a challenge, the more I think about it, the more I realise it would be wonderful to have my boyfriend there. Although I will admit that I don't know how I would feel about introducing him to my lecturers, my supervisor and all my uni friends. Maybe it's a good thing that I don't invite him. But I don't want to hurt him.
Life just seems so complicated. And while I understand that it's not supposed to get any easier when you grow up, sometimes I wish I had a clue. When I wish that the decisions I made about my life wouldn't have such horrendous consequences. When everyone would just quit going all up in arms over everything that I do.
Yes, I understand that she's upset over me. That she feels rejected out of my life. That she sees me going away and she's scared. At the same time I want to be able to go out with my boyfriend and have her blessing over it all. I want to be upfront, I want to be honest. I want to be able to go away with him. He's not some guy. He's my boyfriend. He loves me. "Who is he, to be spending so much time with you?" "What status does he really have? He's not family."
No, he's not family. But I'd like him to be. I'd like him to be accepted by you. I don't want you to feel threatened, envious or jealous that he takes up so much of my life and time. He makes me happy like you would not believe. The security, the unwavering love and devotion. The reassurance that I am loved and cared for.
He doesn't need to explain himself to other people. People expect us to be sleeping together. My culture does not. He had an ongoing email battle today between his best friend, his brother and his dad. And one of his punchlines was over viagra. "Mine is a 22 year old. And no you can't share her." That line in itself says so much.
Sometimes I wonder if I in fact have class. If I'm just mutton dressed up as lamb. The conservative 'good girl' with the wild girl underneath dying to be let out. Dying for an outlet. Dying to be free. Bound by culture and tradition and family expectations. I can't live and let live. I have responsibility to home and hearth. How many 22 year old girls are expected to pay family bills? To be the breadwinner? Not that many. Most girls have their cars, have their boyfriends, live away from their parents. They are adults in every sense of the word. Me? I'm a wanna-be adult trapped in a little girl's dress. Bound up and coddled. I'm allowed to do anything I want. I have no limitations. Except when a guy comes into the picture. Put a boyfriend into the equation, and it's like throwing a spanner into the works. The entire machinery breaks down.
I want so desperately to be honest with her. But I think perhaps it might be wiser to hold back. Talk it over with my cousin. Ask for her advice. And read a book that was suggested by someone.
She is scared because I represent everything that she wants and can't have. I am throwing it all away. I want the best of both worlds. Is it too naieve of me to wish to have my cake and eat it too? I'm tired of the whole, 'everything has its price.' As if it's a threat. Is it a threat? That I will hurt her? That I will upset her? I love her to pieces. She's all I have. She's the only mother I will ever have. Yet, at the same time, I want something for me. I may not bear to part from family right now, but I want so desperately to be able to spend nights at my boyfriend's house. I want to spend evenings and nights and mornings with him. But she won't allow it.
And then we come to the break down of 'allow.' She can't stop me. She can't disallow me. She has no legal binding over me. Yes I allow her her power. I give it credence. I give it life. But family and culture brings us up to respect our elders. To give them power. In some ways by her disallowing, she is exerting control over my life. She does not treat me equally. Perhaps the problem lies within me. That I do not give her the chance. That I do not sit down and talk things over with her. That I do not sit down and tell her - mum, I want to spend more time with him. I have slept with him. I don't want to lie to you. I know you dislike it. I know you worry or think that I will regret it because men will always want a virgin. They will throw it all back at me one day and say that because I had slept with other men that I'm worthless. And they will use that against me. But I don't believe that. I am happy with this guy. I love him. I just want to spend time with him.
She won't can't disown me. She can't disown me. She just wants me to be happy, right?
I just want to be honest.
I'm sick of all the lies.
Akimbo Butterfly
"Do you remember the first time you told me you loved me? I had to ask."
"No I didn't. I said it out - oh.. yeh."
"I had to ask. You started to say it and then chickened out. When I asked you to repeat it, you refused."
Funny how you remember things. I would never classify that as the first time I told you I loved you. Yet the more and more I think about it, the recollection in my head is different to the reality. We were lying in bed, and I had this sudden urge to tell you. I got as far as your name, realised what a momentous occasion it was and then turned away and said, 'nothing.' You had indeed asked me what, and when I ducked my head and shook it away, you eventually caught my eye, nodded or smiled and said, 'me too.'
And there I had thought I'd gotten away with it.
Later that afternoon I did get around to saying it voluntarily. And even so, I whispered it so quietly that I had hoped you hadn't heard and that I could take it back. Unluckily for me, you heard.
Often I feel very selfish around you. You give me so much. Yet I never seem to be able to give back. You rang me up tonight all excited to tell me that you're moving back into the city. Even though you love where you're living right now. You're essentially moving to be closer to me.
You commented that I didn't even sound that excited. That's because 1. I won't get excited until it happens, I know better than to just believe in words. and 2. should you really move, I don't really know what to do about it all. It means you're committing more to me. And I have nothing to show for it. I can't move in with you. I can't spend the night with you. I can't give you what it is you want. How can you do this? How come you always make such beautiful dramatic moves? When I can't respond in kind? How can my love mean anything when your actions consistently prove that I am all talk and no substance? How can this in fact be fair on you?
I've been thinking lately about how we've settled into each other. It's funny how it all falls together. I was rereading some posts I'd written up in February. All the excitement. You joked the other night how weeks ago all you had to was touch me and I'd unravel. These days I continue on like a freight train. Will everything change to the point where we get so used to each other that it will all become boring? I don't want this relationship to become boring.
In some ways perhaps we have begun to take the relationship for granted a little. We are stable. Relatively, anyway. We know that we love each other. And sometimes it seems like we forget what it was ever like without each other. And while the arguments and underlying guilt is still there, the love never diminishes.
How did we get here so fast? Where a simple chat between you and a pretty girl will get me all tied up in paroxyms of jealousy? Where lunches with you are a given? Where you pay for the majority of meals and I no longer fight you for it? Where you ring me every night and I sms you ever night to let you know that I got home safely?
Little by little we have gotten under each other's skin. And while there's still a lot to go, I have to admit, that this is by far the strongest relationship I've ever been in. The first one doesn't count because I spent the first six months fighting it. The second one doesn't count because after the first month he started fighting it. This one, despite my initial wariness, both of us haven't really fought against it per se. Whereas I've stepped a little cautiously at times, while at others gone in impetuously, he has jumped straight into the deep end. And then gradually pulled me in from the shallows.
There is no doubt that he loves me. And while he reassures me that he knows without a doubt that I love him, I often feel bad that I cannot show him as much as he shows me. My concerns no longer revolve around whether I in fact deserve him, or how can such a man love me. Or even if I am stringing him along for the wrong reasons. My only concern these days is that I will never love him enough or be able to show him. That I will never be able to show him how much he means to me, and that because I constantly have to put family ahead of him, that one day he may well decide that he can no longer handle this and move on. thereby leaving me in the lurch.
I don't think about the future so much. All I do is take each moment with him at a time. I was sitting with him at lunch in the pub today, and the feeling of surreal contentment overwhelmed me. I sat there and thought to myself, 'so this is what it's like to spend time with someone.' I just took the moment as it was. And it was nice. For once I stopped worrying about other things. I simply sat there, and appreciated.
All I want from him, is his attention. Is that wrong to want that? To constantly be on his mind? To continually be the center of his world? Is that too selfish? And all the while I refuse to let him crowd into my thoughts. I continually pretend to be the proud hard to get girl. And I love that he willingly lays down his little soul for me to step all over. "Don't you like chasing after me?" says one of his sms's.
This time next week I will be in his arms. Wrapped up with him. We're going on a holiday, with cousin in tow. But I'll be spending the evening and the night with him. You have no idea how much I am looking forward to it.
But the only bad thing about it all is that even this experience is covered with a little sadness. Because I did not jump at the opportunity to spend it with him. Rather, I immediately went into paranoia mode. And so I ruined a perfect opportunity with him. It seems I can never do 100% by him. And I am constantly afraid. I never do anything that I specifically want to do. Instead I do things for other people. But never necessarily for myself. And that is not a good thing.
I've just finished two major quarterly reports. I'm totally exhausted and don't have the time or tenacity to sit down and really nut out what it is I feel for him. What my emotions are saying about him. All I know is that from the moment I voluntarily told him that I loved him, I've opened myself up to vulnerability. And for better or worse he's come to see a part of me that doesn't necessarily open up to anyone else.
"I want to be the one chink in your armour" he says to me.
To be honest, I don't know if that's a good or bad thing.
Do I want someone pulling at my heart strings like he does?
Standing Butterfly
Standing at the station at 11.30pm. Cold. Dark. Slightly rainy.
No one there but me.
There is no taxi.
I can not ring home.
My boyfriend has no car. He stuffed up by forgetting to re-register. And it doesn't help for me to continually harp on about it.
Last time this happened that I had to go home on my own and ring a taxi, I swore that this would be the first and last time.
I broke that rule tonight. And as I shivered in panic and cold when I realised that it would take me one hour to get home by walking in my new four inch heeled boots, and none of my friends were available to pick me up, the phrase 'never again' returned to my mind.
I can't do this.
No matter the jealousy I felt tonight when he was introduced to the most bimboesque female that ever graced the planet, and he smiled at her, held out his hand said, "I don't know your name" and proceeded to tell her his. No matter the fear I felt at his charming display with me standing right beside him. No matter that he loves me madly and laughed at my childish display and later admittance of jealousy. No matter that he kisses me and tells me that I am the only one for him, and asks me if I'll still love and feed him when he's 65.
I just do not want to run around in the dark anymore. No more secrets. No more lies. No more fear at home. No more panic. No more hiding in the dark. No more pretending. I need to be honest. I need to be upfront. It's killing me inside. To have to lie to family. To have to lie at work.
I am so exhausted inside.
And because I knew the consequences and did them anyway - because I knew - I have no one to blame. I am not allowed to complain. He has the right of way.
I'm just really upset. The fear, panic and defeat that I experienced standing in an empty parking lot desperately hoping that someone would pick up my taxi call and come and pick me up. The distress when I began walking on my own, mentally preparing myself for explaining to home why I was an hour late. The fear that I may well have to cave in and ring home, admit defeat, and get them to come and pick me up.
I hate that even though I told you I don't want to talk to you tonight, that you don't hear the tears in my voice in the voicemail I left on your phone, or the two messages that I wrote, that you don't immediately respond. I don't care that you're tired. Or that maybe you don't have your phone with you. All I know is that you aren't here to see me safely home. And I hate that I can't do anything to change the situation.
I'm just frustrated and tired, and winding down from a panic attack. I need to blog this out. I need to tell someone of my distress and unhappiness. I don't think I can take your lack of transport for much longer.
What's the point of being able to go out at night with you if I can't get home safely? If my night ends in a panic attack and tears as I stand there in the cold desperately trying to figure out how I can get home without getting into trouble.
And even though I know that technically I cannot 'get into trouble' if I'm an adult, I'm going to say it anyway: get into trouble.
Despite that post this morning, right now, I'm very unhappy.
~ * ~ * ~
So you just msged me. You left your phone at home. And it's going to be 3 months before you have your car back. Right now I am in such a state that I'm tempted just to tell you that I will not go out with you at night any more. It's just too much hassle. Too much stress. And I don't want mum to know that you stuffed up.
I know things aren't perfect. I know things should never be perfect. But right now all I want to do is blame you for everything. This whole responsibility thing - I don't want it. It's a burden I can't really handle.
I'm just so tempted to spite you and say - no more late nights. It's lunch or nothing. There's just no plausible explanation for your absence of car anymore.
And I just messaged you to tell you that I can't move in with you because I'm not ready. And my only response is 'ok.'
That's not the answer I want. But then again my answer most likely isn't the answer you want either.
I just want to blame you. I'm tired of being the 'good' girlfriend who always does right by you and never *truly* complains. Who gives in on everything to you because I can. Who never really says no to you. Who will try and please you whenever I can. Who is in some ways subservient and obedient. I just want to be selfish. And blame you.
All of you.
Comfortable Butterfly
When things change too slowly, we get bored. When they change too fast, we grow anxious. Just as we need to strike a very particular balance with the temperature of our bathwater, we are equally fussy about the tempo of our lifestyle. You now have the ability to adjust the intensity of a particular situation. Don't kid yourself that someone else is in control. Just do whatever you have to in order to be comfortable.
That was yesterday's forecast. But it seems to fit so aptly for what exactly happened last night. Brother spent the evening out with friends. I took the opportunity to have dinner with boyfriend.
Have you ever been kissed to the point where you step away in an absolute daze of bliss and nirvana? I left the platform, wandered onto the train and two stops later realised that I was on the wrong train....
And so began a comedy of errors that ended with my mother shouting at my brother for ignoring her at the station. Because we tried to hide it from her that I'd missed my train. He was just trying to protect me. The strongest feeling I have is remorse that I had to put him through that. I messed him up. I'm a bad sister. Sisterly angst aside, the thing that I dealt with last night was taking another road to happiness.
I can talk to her now. Tell her that I'm on the mend and that sooner or later I'll be the 'good girl' that she wants.
What I essentially came to terms with last night was what everyone has been telling me is in fact true - and does in fact, apply to me. I
can be happy, do what
I want, and still have a loving family. I do have a lot of freedoms that I never acknowledged before.
Whereas I used to think that if mum disapproved I wasn't allowed to do it - that in fact is not the case. The reality is that even though she may disapprove and be unhappy about my decisions, this does not mean that I can't do them. I just have to accept that she will be unhappy. But that doesn't mean she'll stop me. I have to grow up sometime, and deal with the consequences of my actions.
She told me last night that if I moved out and lived with my boyfriend that I would hurt her. Break her heart again. I've been thinking a bit about moving out. I think that ideally that would not happen for at least two years. And if I do end up changing career paths like I plan to, well, that may well become an ideal opportunity. And this time around I will sit down and talk to her reasonably about it. I think that I need to start growing up. I need to start maturing. I need to start learning to become adult. I need to become responsible for my own actions. And I need to take other people's feelings into account. Stop being so self-absorbed. Try to find that delicate balance between what I want and what other people want.
At the end of the day, all that matters is whether I am happy. Can I live with my decisions? Can I be happy about what is my life? If I don't, no one else is going to make it better for me. Only I have responsibility for my own actions. No one else. Everyone always looks after themselves first. No one else. And even though mothers sacrifice for their children - well, even so, there's only so far that you can live your lives for them. They can't live through you. You have to pick your own paths.
So maybe weekends away aren't so impossible. I know that she will never have a problem with me going with boyfriend and friends in tow. But I wonder if she'll let me go with him on my own. I think if I wait a year and then bring it up, it won't be so bad. He's also suggested I go skiing with him and his family. That should be ok.
It seems in some sense that he's come around a little. The other night I received a sms that told/reminded me that we had 'all the time in the world.' It reassures me to know that he's willing to wait. It also makes me wonder if he has in fact come across this blog. He's seen a page of this surreptitiously a long time ago, and he noticed a blog titled and made a passing joke about it. I wonder if he put two and two together and went searching. Because that line, 'all the time in the world' was in a post just last week. And I didn't receive that sms until early this week. Which then leads me to wonder - if he did in fact read this, how I would feel about it. Would it bother me that he had access to all my inner thoughts and insecurities? Would I ever willingly tell him that I kept a blog? An ongoing diary of my internal angst over current and failed relationships? Would I be brave enough to let/allow him to read it? It's one thing for him to stumble across it on his own, or actively look for it and read it without my knowledge. It's another to know for certain that he's reading it. Because then I have to make the choice - do I let him continue reading it, or do I ask him to respect my privacy?
I lay in bed last night thinking about the past three months. So much has happened. It seems like we've been together forever. Yet it's only been a short while. A very short while.
I think that things will all work out in the end. I hope so.
All the time in the world...
Lighter Butterfly
I've been in a moody pit the last two, three days. The sun decided to shine on me this morning though and I feel a lot better. Things seem to be looking up. Don't really know what I'm doing writing all this up when I don't even feel anything pressing right now. Not in the mood to rehash my life for the past week. Not really wanting to disclose or elaborate. No exposition.
Just feel a little lighter. And wanted to share.
The world looks a little clearer, the sky a little brighter. And I'm going out to dinner with his friends tomorrow night. Some farewell party of sorts.
*shrug*.
Whatever.
I wrote up a whole bunch of stuff last night all introspective and self-depracating. The selfish moody stuff that questions my own existence and fights against the world. Not really in the mood to retype it up here. Because for once I'm in a good mood and don't want to relapse. Suffice to say that I was on the verge of tears for most of the day at work yesterday. I hate feeling volatile, where anything that anyone says has the potential to throw me off kilter and run back to the comfort and safety of my rock.
I can't wait till ANZAC Day. My cousin's coming from overseas, I graduate from Honours, I take a well deserved break - one week of annual leave, I go on 'holiday' of sorts. Planning to visit vineyards and lots of scenic tours with boyfriend and cousin in tow. I can't wait.
Guess I'm just all stressed out, mentally and physically exhausted. Least the light's shining ever so faintly. And I'm feeling better..
The burdens just keep on mounting. Most of them most likely self-inflicted. But like I said, not really in the mood to be introspective, dark and brooding today. I need a break from life on the high seas. I need a holiday.
Jealous Butterfly
Jealousy comes short and sharp. It shuts you down and closes you off to emotion. It wells up from a place inside and starts to take over. It infiltrates your mind, placing the thoughts that started those emotions in a continuous loop. And all the while your heart shrivels up like a dried up prune, shrinking ever so slowly squeezing out all the love and emotion, leaving a little black spot in your chest.
For me, all it takes is for him to mention a past girlfriend. All it took for me this morning was a passing mention that he's brought other girlfriends to family functions before, and that's all it took. I sit here with a deadline due in six hours and I can't focus. All I feel is the griping inside. All it took was a reminder that I have not been his only one. That I am not that special or privy to his attentions. That's all it takes. And there I immediately stand, hurt, wounded, jealous and reactionary as a cat who's gotten it's tail stepped on. Hackles up and defences drawn. Hiding within. Hoping that he will know or seek to find out what has made me withdrawn, but terrified and ashamed that he will find out at the same time.
No amount of reassurance seems to put those ghosts of girlfriends past to rest. I can't do it. I don't know why. I know he's had his run, his fair share, but for whatever reason I can't bring myself to let it go and accept it as a reality. All I seem to do is feel the shrivelling and the pain. And of course, the insatiable jealousy. The hurt. The more I think about it, the stronger that wall grows. I don't want to know. I don't need to know. All it does is hurt. Hurt and hurt and hurt.
Of course the irony is that it probably cuts both ways. If I mention an ex or whatever. But then again, I haven't had the same number that he has. And I also know that those boyfriends past mean nothing. His girlfriends past may also mean nothing to him. Yet the knowledge that I am not the first still gets me. Still picks up me and shakes me up inside.
Reflective Butterfly
It's funny how the world goes around. How things come full circle. And how sometimes things that you once thought or believed in, no apply anymore.
Despite all the family and relationship angst I'm experiencing these days, I must be honest when I say that I'm on the mend. Despite all the unhappiness, I am happy. Despite all the underlying tension and imperfectness that is my life, I am happy. I came across one of my archived blogs written in November and I am jolted into a different dimension.
So long ago now there were days and nights when I could not imagine how I would get through everything. How certain names would pull at my heart strings and how attention from any male would make me clench up inside. How I craved for attention and would berate myself and put myself through all the heartache and pain.
With a boyfriend in tow who treats me so well, all I feel is a complacency. Others do not matter to me. Those that I craved after two, three, four months ago do not matter. I was woken up last night by a sms from Norway. Three months ago that sms would've spread a warmth through my heart and I would've clutched on like a drowning man on driftwood. Last night, all I felt was annoyance. I don't need him.
Just like I don't need my exes. I don't need a certain Honours graduate to make me doubt myself or to wonder if the way I love someone is wrong. I don't need a flirty and ever-sensitive Norweigen to make me feel any better about myself. I don't need to be wanted. By anyone except by a certain someone. He is all I need.
It's funny how cards fall. How reality checks in, and suddenly all you need is one person. I have no intention of straying. Everything is still new. Everything is still wonderful. Despite the arguments, despite the misunderstandings and differing perspectives on life. I don't know where this will go, where it will end. I know how he idealises it, but if you ask me my honest response to all of that, well, I honestly don't know. All I know is that right now I'm happy just being the wanted, desired, and loved girlfriend. I'm making the most of everything that I can right now.
And the adage, 'all the time in the world', applies so aptly for everything. He will not stray. We will give it time. No matter how close we feel with each other right now, you have to remind yourself every once in a while it's only been 2 months, give or take. If you want to be pernickity, it's coming on three. Slow down time and sort things out. This may still all end in tragedy. Sometimes I wonder if I'm here simply to stroke my ego and nothing else. How much of it is true honest love? He says it's up to me. I don't know. All I know is that he comforts me. And reassures me that I am everything that he ever dreamed of and more. And right now, that's enough for me.
Irritating Butterfly
Really irritated this morning. Can't really fathom why. Was walking to work and just wanted to scream and punch something.
She wanted to argue this morning and I stopped her. This wasn't the right time.
What I hate is how unreasonable she can be when she tries to pick a fight. Always says STUPID things to try and push my buttons and whatever else. It's just ridiculous. Saying extreme things that JUST DO NOT COMPUTE.
How the hell can you expect anything to be done?
I was yet again reminded by her this morning that my actions belied the idea that I actually wanted to talk to her. I do want to talk to her. It's just that ... I don't know. I think I need time to sort myself out and figure out what exactly is wrong with me.
There are days like yesterday where I think that I am a fairly well-adjusted person. Who is reasonable and logical with her head set straight. Then there are moments like this morning where I begin to doubt where my priorities lie. Deep down, am I really happy? Am I just sweeping things under the rug like I seem to do with everything?
It's just that nothing ever seems like it's resolving itself. I've got the boyfriend on one side constantly wishing I could spend more time with him. But I can't, not if I'm supposed to go by mum's idea about what it means to be a 'dutiful' daughter. I've got family on another, making things so awkward. Just when I think things are looking up in that respect they continually keep on ballooning into epic proportions. And on top of that I've got work with it's two week deadlines and accusing boss and executives constantly out to put me on the death stand.
I know that often I am taking a lot of things onto myself. My sense of duty, responsibility and belief that I am responsible for everyone's hurts and pains makes it difficult for me to live my life. Yet I never really sit down and seriously think about what it is I really want. I guess the fear of one day feeling regret is what's holding me back from trying to be my own individual and live my own life. Or even to grow up and be an 'adult.'
All I know is that I'm really irritable today. I want so badly to punch kick and scream someone or something. Just lash out and forget about all the stupid consequences. Really, really, REALLY irritable.
All that seems to happen is that I'm getting in trouble with EVERYONE. There's nothing that I can do right by ANYONE. There's no place that I can go to to feel better about myself. No place that I can go to where I haven't offended someone. Yes I can't please everyone, but right now I can't even please someone.
Pained Butterfly
sms phone wars. rehashing old arguments and going around in circles costs twenty dollars in sms.
gah....
all the same ol same ol issues that keep on getting brought up. nothing you can change, therefore nothing you can do, therefore don't worry about it.
the more this comes up, the more likely I feel that one day this is going to end. and not pleasantly by any means.
i miss you so much. i love you so much. yet it's like family has unobtrusively driven a wedge between us. one that i cannot break right now. because i tried and suffered the consequences.
i really hate that i can't give you what you and i want. because i know that i can't hurt family any more than i already have. sometimes i feel so confused. maybe space for the both of us would be the best.
i just don't wall to pull you any deeper into this than is necessary. i'll have to psych myself up though before i talk to you. and perhaps brave the ugly side of work relationships and be totally honest. which means that there may well be a period when we will not be 'together' but still have to work together.
you tell me that you're going to reduce the level i'm at. that you will no longer place me at the highest priority. and i'm scared that that means that you will no longer love me. because everything that you've done so far, I've loved. I don't know how to handle change in relationships, love and loss of. Sometimes it just seems like it's all black and white. If only on the outside, while inside I'm all a mass of grey.
I need to be able to show to the world, my outer persona of love or die. No in between. Either you love me or you don't. If I change in levels, that means that you no longer care. Yet, inside we know that there are levels of love. But it's always easier to accept and trick each other if those acknowledgements aren't said out loud.
I love you. I can't help myself.
Sometimes I wonder if the longer I immerse myself in you, the worse it will get, and the darker and bleaker life will be after you get out of it. I'm a little scared to just take it all as it comes, even though at the end of the day that's all I ever do.
The only thing that I can think about right now is how to protect myself. I don't want to be hurt again. And I really am terrified that you will come to me one day and say, "i'm sorry but i can't hack it." and leave. and i will be left regretting my actions of not putting you first. I don't want to go through all the self-revelation, self-doubt, personal hurt and self-inflected flagellations. I don't want to open up. I should never have succumbed to your temptations and stood strong.
I'm an idiot, what can i say?
