“My head reels. My heart is heavy. My thoughts are distracted. I see red, yet I see so unwillingly.”
That, above is how I felt at the beginning of this week, as well as most of last week. Following that was sadness. Then pain. Now, all I feel is a strange peace as I finally accept how things have come to be. Also, this probably stems from the fact that my prayers have helped and guided me to this point thus far. Maybe this feeling is temporary — I don’t know.
I’ve thought things through. Many times. All the time. Constantly. Despite not seeming like it, the thoughts would still come, no matter what. I accepted that. I go through my memories, looking for where things went wrong, and I always come to the conclusion that it was my fault. And then I try to shoulder the blame I placed on myself by myself. And that’s just a lot of weight. After a while, it became a normal, everyday burden, that it comes off as being natural; it is akin to being almost weightless, save for the fact that thoughts would still pop up occasionally.
I remained silent, keeping everything bottled up, merely because I know of my tendency to over-think everything. I also didn’t want to come off as being too overtly sensitive. But I guess I do come off that way now (so does he though). He’s had enough. I feel it. I’ve also had enough. And that feeling overpowered me internally, despite the fact that it may not seem so on the outside — I have, after all, great emotional control.
I’ve had enough in a sense that I cannot continue to let myself be jailed by these constant thoughts that plague me about the many mistakes I made and can see; it is horrible to live through these thoughts constantly, blaming myself every single time I am reminded of the things I could have done the right way.
I blame myself. I really do. I am horrible at communicating how I feel inside, merely because I grew up more on my father’s side’s family and they aren’t the most communicative and emotive types, unlike my mother’s side; they would rather stay silent about their personal issues than speak how they feel due to the thought that it might hit the wrong note with someone. Rather, they can function in great unity silently, without ever having to speak a word, since everyone is just highly in tune with everyone else’s wavelengths. Heck, it can be ridiculously impossible to even say the very simple phrase “I love you” to my parents (mostly my dad) without feeling weird, sappy, and corny.
I know that is my weakness, and for the rest of my life, that will be one of my struggles. I’m not saying I don’t know how to communicate with people; rather, I am far more adept at communicating abstract and theoretical ideas and thoughts, than communicating my own personal thoughts and feelings regarding more specific situations and people — I can’t say I don’t try, because I really do.
I tend to portray myself to the external world as someone who is very distant from how she feels, showing myself as more of an intellect who has no time for emotions. When in fact, she does feel things and wants to communicate these things, but she just doesn’t know how to.
All that aside, I know I could have done things better. I just had no guidance, and so, I didn’t know what to do. But I also feel that I just wasn’t getting any feedback from his end, and so I felt even more clueless and lost.
When I finally did get the guts to ask again, after a really long period of time, I get nothing. Nada. Zilch. I try again. Nothing. Another time. Nothing. And then I just realized how stupid it was trying to reach out to someone who didn’t want to bother. And chasing him about it felt unorthodox, because of preconceived gender roles and all that. I may have just wanted to ask him for an explanation and reason (and maybe even if reconciliation was possible), but constantly going after him about it made me feel like a complete ass and that I was the one with the literal balls — not the other way round.
I still hope for the best in the future in terms of our ties, but I guess I just need to see how it will all play out now. But I do miss getting to talk to him easily without strain. I just miss those easier times.
One thing to note though is that…well…to be honest…he didn’t time it really well that boat time, in my opinion. But then, I wouldn’t have known how to time it myself, so kudos to him for giving it a try at all.
Huh. This is a post of even more full disclosure. And all that psycho-babble; I think too much.