I'm drawn to the sad love poems. There's such a depth to sadness as pertains to love--well, depth, in that it is absolutely bottomless. I remember it well, and the variations are endless. But I'm also drawn to sad music, short stories, and films. I'm not a very sad person, but someone who looked through my iTunes or movie collection would think I was a total bummer. I'm not! My curiosities about humanity just lie in what we do when we're sad. It's just so damned interesting!
Been thinking about that one a lot lately. I think I'm so curious about it because I don't ever use my friends as support. Not by choice, I don't think--I think I was just raised as such. Throughout my life, I've been honored to be the support system for many, many wonderful people. I've learned a lot because of it, though I never really understood why I became that person for so many. I don't question it.
But I've never really learned how to share my own pain with others. Not at a manageable or reasonable pace, anyway. If it's something I can't handle, it just kind of bubbles and steeps for awhile, and then when I erupt, no one understands it because it is completely unreasonable. Even I know it, but I don't understand myself either when it happens. I do not like what that turns me into.
As of late, my life has been relatively stress-free, outside of the normal money woes and deadlines. Compared to 4 months ago, emotionally, I'm currently enjoying a blissful cakewalk. Compared to 2 months ago, physically, I feel like a champ. Seeing as this is my perfect situation to test the waters, I have been opening up little by little to the people who should know me better. It seems so elementary, but seriously, I never learned how to do this. And it causes me to talk about completely inappropriate things when I'm drunk... need to cap that off. There might be two (probably only one) people in the human race that know me as well as I want them to. I feel it sometimes. It's lonely on a different level.
I think that might be one of the reasons I started this blog. I'm tough to talk to one-on-one, if it's about me. But this blog is more or less entirely about me. I feel a lot better when I have time to formulate feelings into blocks and grammar, and serve it polished to the masses of the internet. Blame it on my having AOL as a child--it's a cheap outlet. Even here, though, I can't say everything (nor do I think I should).
I have so much to give that it hurts to carry it around all the time.
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