Dear you know who
Apparently I’m mad at you. I didn’t realize it actually. Still, I feel pretty numb about it all. I guess mostly because I don’t feel I can blame you for everything. Some, yes. All, no. Which means that all my feelings have been largely stuffed into some sort of cubby in my body and the ease with which I compartmentalize my emotions for you startles me.
I’ve been told I’m mad, frustrated, sad. I don’t really know how to be mad at you anymore. I’m mad in general, yes. Mad that there’s more you could be doing to appease my loneliness sure. But mostly I’m mad that you’re silent and expect me to leave. After a year and a half, I’m still here.
I haven’t asked for anything but I need communication. Any. Communication. You could literally say NOTHING important, just “hey” and I would be flipping backhand springs down the street. That’s how starved for communication I am. I feel no connection from you even if I feel it deeply, for you.
This week has been harder than usual because I’m not able to unfocus from the delight of a promise of new beginnings last weekend. I got a taste of my future and it was DAMN sweet. Being back home is just plain depressing and there’s still so much time left before I can leave and start my new graduate program.
I just wish I was in school right now; anything to keep me occupied. Because I’m depressed, I’m not motivated to create. Maybe I should do it anyways. That’s why I’m writing right now I suppose. I’m not even sure that depressed is the right word. I can feel my hormones in flux currently so I don’t think that’s helping but for the most part I’m experiencing my most detested emotion: apathy. Like the lights in my soul are out.
I hate this feeling and I don’t know if it’s because of you, body chemicals, or being back in this fucked up town. It’s probably a nice, holistic blend of them all. I think I’m just going to go play video games.