Wednesday, November 3, 2010

Conflicted

Sorry I went all emo yesterday. Certain things have just been weighing heavily on my mind lately, and I hate to say it but I'm going to do it again. Normally, I try to avoid getting messy with emotions on my blog but since my journal is not readily available, where I usually write about this stuff, this will have to do.

For me, writing is a kind of therapy. I don't discuss my emotions with people, aside from my mom and one other person, I never let my guard down, which is why I don't have "close" friends. I have so many walls in place that it's just safer to leave them there. But at the same time, when something is wrong, I have to talk it out. And so here I am, talking it out on my blog because I can't find my stupid journal.

So here goes. This is me. Talking it out.

It's strange how sometimes I feel like I have two other people living inside my head, one who wants to lead with her heart and emotions, and the other who has to hold her back and protect both of us because if she did do that, then all hell would break loose.

Take for instance, the case of the friend I no longer talk to. We started out as friends, and we were great friends. We clicked on everything, and rarely ever ran out of topics to talk about. But inevitably emotions began to run rampant and we took that step past friendship and into relationship territory.

This is where "the heart" comes into play. In spite of things ending very badly, she simply does not care. She doesn't care that no matter how hard I try, once I stepped past that friendship line there was no going back for me. She doesn't care that no matter how hard I can fool myself into thinking we can be "just friends" I'm always the one that ends up being hurt again. All that matters is the small part of me that still misses my friend and does everything in its power to make me reach out. Luckily, that part of me has not won out as of yet, the numerous emails that I have started and discarded can attest to that.

So far, the other part of me has remained stubborn, the level headed part, "the protector", digging in her heels and refusing to let go of the memory of having my heart broken, which "the heart" seems to have so easily forgotten. She argues day and night with "the heart", parading memories back and forth. The hurt, feeling that sense of betrayal when the one person you trusted the most not to hurt you does it anyway. The decision not to be friends, because how do you go from being "in love" with someone to being "just friends"?

In her argument, you don't. You either move on, or you remain this pathetic love sick moron who is only fooling herself that she's okay with being "just friends".

While "the protector" may sound like she's a callous bitch, she's also understanding. She knows it's not easy falling out of "love" but at the same time, she truly believes this is what's best for "the heart" and for me. And so she fights for all it's worth to protect us from ever feeling that amount of hurt again. No matter how much "the heart" wants to reach out and say "I miss you so much my friend. I miss your jokes and your laughter. I miss your silliness and your company. I miss the ridiculous conversations we would have at 5 in the morning after no sleep. But most of all, what I miss, is loving you." Why couldn't you have just loved me too?

Right about that time is when "the protector" makes her move. While "the heart" is being flooded with all the memories and the heartache "the protector" gathers her up in her arms and comforts her and reminds "the heart" that it simply can never be. The decision was made, and things were said that cannot simply be forgotten. So she carries "the heart" and the burden of doing what is best for both of us, until "the heart" mends and can once more stand on her own knowing "the protector" will be there to catch her when she inevitably falls again.

This. This is what has been going on inside my head every day since that dream. This is what also has made me realize, contrary to my previous belief that I was over everything, a part of me has yet to move on. And that dream is what brought it to the surface.

Stupid dream.

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