Joshua Gizelt (swashbuckler332) wrote,
Joshua Gizelt
swashbuckler332

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Sea of Maybes...

I had a frivilous dream last night. I don't remember it, only that I was amused by it. Then I woke up and realized I was alone, and what that meant, and it all came crashing back. It is nice to know that my subconcious is working with me right now in my time of need, although I could have used another 15 to 20 hours of sleep...

I am still confused. I want so badly to break down and negate my decision from last night, but to do so would be self-destructive. But, of course, it would make the pain... what? It would mute the separation, of course, but certain, unresolved issues would still be there, eating away at me, hurting more and more as time goes on.

I am incensed, however, by the parting bit of manipulation; that I should be the one to re-initiate contact when I was ready. The problem is that I am and have been ready, it is she who must get her life in order in order to have a serious relationship. It is not my call to make, and I see in her move a need not to be responsible that has characterized her side of our relationship (and a good part of her life at the moment, at least what I've seen of it), an indecisiveness that damns her to endless cycles of Catch-22 logic that I couldn't break into.

This says to me that we probably won't work out, and it is the most painful revelation of this whole ordeal. She needs to evolve, and I would have loved to have been there for her, to support her, but she couldn't let me in. To try to get close to her is to push her away. To try to get her to commit to a particular course of action is to make her be more indecisive.

That left me swimming... drowning... in a sea of "maybes." There is no argument in the known universe that will convince me that I should have stayed in that situation.

No argument but one.

And, frankly, sometimes love is not enough.

I have to be strong and move on, but meanwhile every stray thought is a plea to the fates that she will call and be ready to live up to how she said she felt about me; every wandering eye picks up another detail that reminds me of how wonderful things were when they were good. She probably won't call me, though, and she can convince herself that I'm the one responsible for this because she put the ball in my court.

I wanted to get drunk last night (who wouldn't), but I didn't and I'm glad. The world seems a little too much for me today, and I am occupying my little corner at work attempting to distract myself while I feel my 19th Nervous Breakdown coming on.
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