Oh, yes. There will be words.
by, 10-25-11 at 05:54 PM (1006 Views)
I'm all alone. And even though I have cleaned my apartment, being left alone with my own thoughts and a laptop usually always end with some kind rant. Lucky you.
I had a dream this morning (I don't sleep at night, I sleep during the day. But this morning I went to bed early.) and it was a terrible dream. Myself and several others suffered awful things by some misfortune of fate. I hate that my subconscious is just as quick and thorough as my conscious brain, because she makes it all so believable. The pain and suffering wasn't all that disturbing, even as I was dreaming as myself. But someone was there, and he's been there in my dreams for several weeks now. The ending was beautiful, sweet and heartbreaking, like some sappy tear-jerker movie. Actually, add maybe four people to Cast Away and you've pretty much got the plot of said dream. I'm so original.
Oh, the black phoenix, the no fair man, haunts me even though I've been doing my best. And he's been so, so, so quiet. I miss listening to him speak. I, of course, enjoy the other stuff he does, but I just like to listen to him speak. But, I have no say in the matter, he's worlds away from me and my life. I just get this way sometimes and its entirely self inflicted conflict. Would I ever show it to my girlfriend? No. To my friends? Not to the fullest extent. They all know, but not really. Could I tell my family? No. Sometimes I humor getting a therapist, try and seek some sort of closure from all of this. I'm not afraid of being judged, anyway. But when I think about it, that might just be putting a band-aid on the situation and moving on. After all, it wouldn't be the first person I had explained at great length my feelings. And they say once you've said it out loud you feel better. And I did, for a time, and then it didn't really mean much at all. So saying it to someone with a degree won't feel so strange, but it wouldn't do much of anything, even if they do actually try to help me and not medicate me. I want to say it all to the black phoenix, my no fair man, but he'll never hear it, because I'll never get the chance.
So, I pretend like he really did make everything okay, and that was the end of it, and I hide the fact that a very selfish part of my heart breaks everyday for something I never had, and I push all that aside and try to make a happy existence for myself dispite it. But when I'm all alone, with just my thoughts and a laptop, I'll never be able to forget it.