A falling star fell from your heart and landed in my eye

I screamed aloud as it tore through them, and now it’s left me blind

 

The stars, the moon, they have all been blown out

You left my in the dark

No dawn, no day, I’m always in this twilight

In the shadow of your heart

 

And in the dark, I can hear your heartbeat, I tried to find the sound

But then it stopped and I was in the darkness, so darkness I became

 

The stars, the moon, they have all been blown out

You left me in the dark

No dawn, no day, I’m always in this twilight

In the shadow of your heart

 

I took the stars from my eyes and then I made a map

And knew that somehow I could find my way back

Then I heard your heart beating, you were in the darkness too

So I stayed in the darkness with you

 

The stars, the moon, they have all been blown out

You left me in the dark

No dawn, no day, I’m always in this twilight

In the shadow of your heart

 

The stars, the moon, they have all been blown out

You left me in the dark

No dawn, no day, I’m always in this twilight

In the shadow of your heart

Florence and the Machine – Cosmic Love

Vacation

I fucking miss NYC. So much of me wants to go back. I know I don’t want to live there, not right now, but a visit is definitely in order. If I can’t swing the trip to see family this December, I’ll be back in the city. Most likely by bus which is not something I’m looking forward to doing, but it’s cost effective and I actually have the time. I’ll have December 23 – January 1 off from work, so I have some time to work with. I know I should do what I can to go see family, but I so badly want to go out East. Priorities. I need to figure those out.

How do I stop caring? How do I remove the significance I assigned to something myself? How do I salvage what there may be to salvage? I’m in too deep and I’m going to lose it all. I want to rewind and start over. I’d give anything to have a second chance.

I’m so torn where I stand. I don’t want to hurt anyone but my selfish tendencies so badly want to take over.

Fuck.

Stephen Syndrome

One feeling I always had with Stephen back in the day was that I wasn’t the only one. I mean, if I was involved with him, who’s to say another person wasn’t in the same circumstances as well? I find myself revisiting this feeling and not liking it and knowing that it’s completely irrational. This time I’m not just convincing myself I’m being irrational. I know that I am.

Just when I think I have a good grip on things…

I need a distraction, and a good one. I’ve actively started looking again. I haven’t dated in a few months, and I think it’s time I start. I may not be in the best place to get into anything serious, but who says I can’t have a little fun? I’m going to explore the world of dinner dates, coffee dates, Sunday afternoon dates… You know those times and situations where it’s rather awkward to go from date to bed. Haha. I don’t need to get laid, I need to make a connection.

Fucking biological clock. It’s ticking again. I don’t like when it does this. I probably just need a few crappy dates to shut it up.

I’m going to make myself open, though. I’ll give pretty much anyone a chance within reason. I’m not going to be superficial, I’m not going to require you have a six figure income. I will require no kids, unattached, honest, funny, charming, and kind. Not too much to ask, right?

Let’s shoot for date number one next weekend. No bars involved. This is DEFINITELY out of my comfort zone.

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Hurt.

I have to go back. I need to prove that I can make it work. New York is still home, always will be. I just wasn’t ready to walk away from everything here. I have people I love, a job I enjoy, and comfort. I find myself constantly looking at finance jobs in New York. Something keeps telling me to apply, but I can’t leave again. I just can’t do it. Not this soon. I have a lot to figure out here before I can even contemplate leaving. And everyone knows, I’d come back after a month if I left things as they are right now. I’m just not ready.

I miss it, I feel like I need to be there, but I also have a very deep sadness towards it. I feel like I abandoned it. I feel like it deserved more from me. I feel like I failed not myself but the city.

I feel like it’s a relationship that ended prematurely for all the wrong reasons and I’m sitting here trying to figure out how to make him take me back because I fucked up. I can’t just call it up and talk things through. I need to make peace though. I think a trip back is in order. Bryant Park, Central Park, Williamsburg, Lower East Side, Midtown… I need to spend time there. I need to feel the love again.

Maybe no one will ever understand what that city means to me. No one will probably ever know how affected I am by the move there and back. It’s changed me fundamentally in ways that I don’t necessarily put out there. It’s made me more reserved in a lot of ways. I think I’m just trying to protect myself from having to go through something like that again.

I still feel empty. I don’t know what’s going to fill that void, if anything.

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Help.

I took the first step tonight. I contacted a therapist about setting up a consultation. I was so against this for so long, but I don’t think I can continue to put it off. I’m fine for a couple of days and then it all goes to shit again. I don’t know how to fix it. I feel like an empty shell of myself more times than not. I go through the motions, put on the right face, say the right things, and I fool people. I’ve gotten good at it. Too good. I can’t continue living like this.

I have a lot of stuff in my past, both distant and more recent, that needs to be figured out and dealt with. I’ve basically been abusing myself for years and tried to fix it by putting up the front and made everyone think I’m okay. Weakness is something I don’t like admitting to, so you can only imagine how hard it is for me to put this in words. I have myself convinced so often I’m fine, even. I’m always fine. I’m never good. The things in life which give me momentary happiness are unhealthy. I drink my problems away on a weekly basis, but we all know that only creates new ones. When I get to my worst, I do whatever I can to make sure I keep going down because when I come back up just a little bit, I can justify it as an improvement, but really, I’m worse off than when I started.

I’m not happy with where I’m at right now. I’m pissed off about NYC. I’m pissed off about men. I harbor anger towards my family for fuck all. I can go so far as to say I even hate myself sometimes. But you’d never know. I’m so good at hiding it. I don’t know how to reveal myself and let people in and truly open up. I’m terrified of what’s going to break the surface. I don’t know if I’m ready for it.

I found a woman who specializes in almost every category I think I fall into. She’s well educated, established, friendly looking, and hopefully a good fit. If all goes well I should hear back from her tomorrow to set something up. Initially I was thinking about going with a man, but considering they’re the root of most of my issues, I decided against it. I just need to get myself put back together. I need to stop having these breakdowns on a regular basis. It doesn’t take much anymore. You look at me the wrong way, and all of a sudden I want nothing more than to curl up in the fetal position and find a corner and just rock myself back and forth. I don’t know what it’s like to feel safe anymore. I don’t know what it’s like to be at peace with myself. I don’t know what a healthy relationship is. I have so much I need to relearn, or maybe learn for the first time.

I want to learn how to love. I want to learn how to allow others to love me. I want my self worth to not be dependent on others. I want to be truly happy if for only once. I want to learn how to finish what I start. I don’t want to have my only realistic option, to myself anyway, as giving up. I’m better than that. See, I can say the words, I just need to figure out how to believe them.

I’m admitting I need help. I can count on one hand how many times in my life I’ve done that.

Drunken words are sober thoughts.

I love the uninhibited him. I love that he’s willing to say what he wants and ask for what he wants and not give a shit. I hate that he only says it because he’s intoxicated and won’t necessarily remember it in the morning. I hate that I couldn’t live with myself if it ever went past talk. I care about him too much to take things that far, or so I tell myself. I also know that I tend to fold pretty easily when it comes to men. Sometimes. I’ve been doing much better lately.

I love the reserved him, too. He’s one of the most incredible friends I could ever ask for. He’s full of unsolicited advice, witty comments, and ego enhancing statements. He’s one I can count on for most anything, maybe not the second I wish I could have it, but it never fails, he comes through.

It’s taken a long time for me to get here. I’m still not all the way there, but I’m working on it. I’ll make it eventually.