Welcome!: Things I'll never say.

Tuesday, 10 November 2009

Things I'll never say.

Even with my state of always not being able to stick around for too long, I remember each person's quirks, and the memories I shared with them is dearly precious to me. It may sound slightly hypocritical, but I can really relate to what Celine said in the movie Before Sunset.

"I mean, I always feel like a freak because I'm never able to move on like...this. You know. People just have an affair, or even..entire relationship. They break up and they forget! They move on like they would have changed a brand of cereals! I feel I was never able to forget anyone I've been with.

I think it's the same with people. I see in them little details, so specific to each other, that move me, and that I miss, and..will always miss."

It's true. To me, for every failed relationships, even when my feelings were no longer there anyway, it didn't mean that I wasn't sad when they ended. I still needed time to miss the other person. I'm baffled at how sometimes it takes just a heartbeat for the other person to just, forget everything.

Early this year I was seeing someone, and even though yes, we both knew it wasn't gonna go anywhere, and that we shouldn't have had any expectations at all, because the end was inevitable, but still. Maybe I was simply being a girl for hoping. After all, we had so much fun together. I kept thinking to myself though, who am I kidding? Don't be stupid, you're supposed to be an adult about this.

It turned out exactly like what we've seen coming all along. He had to leave, and it sucks. I think he was the closest to a real, day-to-day boyfriend I've ever had. At least it was drama-free while it lasted. No long-distance thing, no phone-bill-explosions; just really good, silly times together of meeting each other's friends, watching too many movies, eating in and out, and writing each other dorky text messages everyday.

I mean, I knew it wasn't anything serious, I wouldn't dramatize the situation by saying that I fell for him, or that I was completely crushed that he left, because I didn't, and I wasn't. It sucks, yes. I really missed him at first, it's like I've lost a really good friend. He's been there for many months and suddenly I couldn't just ask him to come out for a movie night, or for a late-night prata supper.

But I kept my emotions in check, and I thought at least we could still be friends even after he left. Sure it would be different, but it's alright, we could still occasionally write emails or catch up, couldn't we? Well, I was wrong. The exchanging of emails probably only happened for the first two weeks after he left, and then it stopped.

Frankly speaking, I haven't talked to the guy for months now. It's like, we suddenly became complete strangers. I wasn't expecting anything, true, but I couldn't help but thinking, I mean, is it that easy for him to forget me? Sorry if I may sound a little self-centered, I don't mean it like that. But okay, I certainly missed him as a friend, if nothing else. Didn't he miss me at all?

Like I said. It really baffles me. "People break up and they forget!" How?

In some scenarios, yeah, sure, you can argue, that on bad breakups, people are supposed to stay clear from each other, because it's harder to be close and it would just remind them of the bad, awful memories. Yeah, I've had that too. My ex and I weren't talking to each other for a good solid 3.5 years before we started being friends again, and now we're fine. Sure, we needed time to get over it, to move on from any bad feelings, and say, well, yeah, I'm ready to be friends with him/her again. It doesn't hurt anymore.

Either way, we still need time, don't we? How could some people move on and forget everything just like that?

Maybe he didn't forget, but he just didn't see the point in continuing to keep in touch when we probably wouldn't ever see each other again. Perhaps. I mean, it's just one example. Generally, I'm like that, though, I can never really forget someone. Hmm, maybe that's why I have a habit of keeping people's text messages in my phone.

I guess it's something I can never ask.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...: Hi Teena... I was reading your blog entries, and now I can appreciate how good of a writer you are. (Damn, I should've realized that much earlier!)

Moving on is hard for me too... And I'm a woman of mind, not heart. I tend to think that he doesn't forget you; how can he? But then again, some things are better left unsaid, better left unknown...:)

*HUG*; 22 November 2009 at 18:07
t e e n a said...: Hi Ci Keti..
Thanks so much for the compliment, that means a lot, especially coming from you whose writings I really admire too. =)

Thank you for stopping by! =)
XOXO; 23 November 2009 at 19:31

Quotes

There's a hundred million different ways of writing, and it takes you a long time to sort through that stuff. And I think it takes anyone a long time to find a voice.

You must learn to take the good with the bad, the happy with the sad, love what you’ve got and remember what you had. Learn to forgive, but never forget, learn from your mistakes but never regret. People change and things go wrong, but you just have to remember that life goes on.

The day before I’m supposed to be meeting Caroline for a drink, I develop all the textbook symptoms of a crush: nervous stomach, long periods spent daydreaming, an inability to remember what she looks like. I can bring back the dress and the boots, and I can see her bangs, but her face is a blank.

I don't know, I think that if I could just accept the fact that my life is supposed to be difficult. You know, that's what to be expected, then I might not get so pissed-off about it and I'll just be glad when something nice happens.

I can see now I never really committed to Laura. I always had one foot out the door, and that prevented me from doing a lot of things, like thinking about my future and... I guess it made more sense to commit to nothing, keep my options open. And that's suicide. By tiny, tiny increments.

There's a big fucking world out there. It's messy, and it's chaotic, and it's never, never ever the thing you'd expect. It is ok to be scared, but you cannot allow your fears to turn you into an asshole, not when it comes to the people that love you, the people that need you.

Maybe what I'm saying is, is the world might be evolving the way a person evolves. Right? Like, I mean, me for example. Am I getting worse? Am I improving? I don't know. When I was younger, I was healthier, but I was, uh, whacked with insecurity, you know? Now I'm older and my problems are deeper, but I'm more equipped to handle them.

I am nothing special; just a common man with common thoughts, and I've led a common life. There are no monuments dedicated to me and my name will soon be forgotten. But in one respect I have succeeded as gloriously as anyone who's ever lived: I've loved another with all my heart and soul; and to me, this has always been enough.

Later that day I got to thinking about relationships. There are those that open you up to something new and exotic, those that are old and familiar, those that bring up lots of questions, those that bring you somewhere unexpected, those that bring you far from where you started, and those that bring you back. But the most exciting, challenging and significant relationship of all is the one you have with yourself. And if you can find someone to love the you you love, well, that's just fabulous.

A woman needs to be held, even, and science has shown this, if its with someone she doesn't care about. Protective hormones are released, and the amount of hormones released depends on the degree to which she is held. The first and best is the complete surround. He wraps you in both arms, whispers how beautiful you are. Second best is the 'arm around.' He is next to you but with one arm around you. Third is he's just next to you on his elbow, but he rests his hand on your stomach and looks at you. Fourth is you snuggling up to him with your head on his chest, while he looks away into space. But when the first best happens, you feel completely, wonderfully like a woman.

So, so what, so fuck off, go home, leave you alone? I'll tell you something Paul, there isn't anything that I've wanted for eighteen years, cause I was a kid eighteen years ago. And if I did still want the same things I'd think I'd gone wrong somewhere, because actually I don't want to marry David Cassidy, I don't want bigger tits, I don't want to do better on my marks. I've stopped worrying about that kind of thing and maybe you should try.

Well maybe there's a big bit of you that's gone missing somewhere, maybe everyone should want something they've always wanted.

Why is it that adults aren't supposed to go mad about anything? You gotta keep a lid on it. And if you don't then people are apparently entitled to say what they like. "You haven't grown up. You're a moron. Your conversation is trivial and boorish. You can't express your emotional needs. You can't relate to your children." And you die, lonely and miserable. But you know, what the hell, every cloud has a silver lining.

I just woke up one morning and didn't feel the same way. Where did it go? It was like there had been a lot of food on a plate in front of us, and we ate it all really quickly, and then there was nothing left. Maybe that's how couples stay together: they're not greedy. They know that what they have in front of them has to last a long time, so they kind of pick at it. I hope it's not like that, though. I hope that when people are happy together, it feels as though someone keeps piling seconds and thirds on their plates.

That is what I have learned: Sex is destructive. Love is nothing to be fooled with. I learned that I was dangerous, not to be trusted. I wondered if my parents were right, with all of their stiff lovelessness. Maybe they knew better. My parents don't dole out love for the deserving or the undeserving. I was learning that love could cost me.

You could say all you liked about reason and logic and common sense and imagination, but when the chips were down, the one skill you needed was the ability to think about absolutely nothing whatsoever.

There is a comfort in never making an effort, but it's a lonely comfort. What keeps you going is the knowledge that you're only playing with only four cards showing. But when you see other people succeeding with their mediocre hands, you have to make a decision. If you turn over that final card you're certain of victory, but it also means you have nothing in reserve.

I’d gone through life believing in the strength and competence of others; never in my own. Now, dazzled, I discovered that my capacities were real. It was like finding a fortune in the lining of an old coat.

Maybe we all live life at too high a pitch, those of us who absorb emotional things all day, and as mere consequence we can never feel merely content: we have to be unhappy, or ecstatically, head-over-heels happy, and those states are difficult to achieve within a stable, solid relationship.