Spike on the River
Neal in Antarctica
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October 12, 2005 - Wednesday, 11:04 p.m.
I was sure Phil would come by on Monday, and he showed up shortly after he got into work. It was the same as alwaysÖ that intent watching of me as he talks to me. How the man can NOT realize how much something inside him reaches for me, I donít know. I know that he wants me to reach out to him. He wants me to call him; he wants me to invite him to do things; he wants me to make it all happen. I am sure of it. But I know that it wonít serve me to do that. In the end, I will not be happy in a relationship where again I must always make everything happen. I want a man that very much wants me in his life. Phil knows I want him in my life. Iíve TOLD him. However, unless he does something to show me that he wants me in his life; I HAVE to go with the words, those awful, awful words that continue to echo in my heart.
I should be focusing on my school work and looking for a new job or something to supplement when I am currently making. However I continue to think about Phil the moment I wake up in the morningÖ on an off all day long, and then last thing before I fall asleep. The rest of the wandering of my mind goes to the books I am reading. It makes me wish to create a world of my own. Something as captivating as the world sheís created. It skitters through my mind constantly. I would love to create characters, places, all the things that make up some imaginary world. I know it is because I am not feeling content in my world. I am tired of fighting the battles, I am tired of being alone, or worryingÖ Iím tired.
This week Iíve thrown myself into work while Iím at work, filling every moment of the day. As soon as I get home I avoid, avoid, avoid. I donít do school work, Iím not even reading, Iím just shutting down, doing mindless things. I do nothing.
I know I am escaping. Things arenít turning out like I wish. I seem to have no control over anything. Iíve been struggling with that. I suppose that escaping into a fantasy world created in literature is better then running away from life completely. That thought flitters in my mind as well. Just getting in my car and driving awayÖ disappearingÖ but Iíll never do that. Instead I escape into my mind. The creative part of my soul is crying. I need to do something creative. Too much HAVE TO in my life, itís strangling me. However, HAVE TO is my lifeÖ ::sighs:: I know I need to somehow hit Ďresetí in my life, but I donít know how to do it. The basic survival is all that I can think of, because if I stop thinking about it, I worry that Iíll not survive. Iíll lose everything. Itís making me crazy.
It dawned on me today, that perhaps it is time to shift what I say. To perhaps start to comment on things in the way I want them, rather then in the way I see them, for instance, replacing the word Ďfineí or Ďokayí with a word like Ďgreatí. Perhaps if I started saying that I am feeling Ďgreatí and things are going Ďgreatí, Iíll start to believe it myself. Perhaps itíll actually start to FEEL like things are great.
I canít shake this melancholy, not today anyway.
Sweet dreams. M.