When I heard the learn’d astronomer;
When the proofs, the figures, were ranged in columns before me;
When I was shown the charts and the diagrams, to add, divide, and measure them;
When I, sitting, heard the astronomer, where he lectured with much applause in the lecture-room;
How soon, unaccountable, I became tired and sick;
Till rising and gliding out, I wander’d off by myself,
In the mystical moist night-air, and from time to time,
Look’d up in perfect silence at the stars.
The Positives:
I finally got accepted into medical school. This is a dream that has taken what feels like forever to come true. I started in July, and completed my first semester in mid-december.
The Negatives:
I had my heart completely ripped out of my chest roughly two weeks after being accepted into said medical school. A three year relationship, dismantled right before my eyes, just when things were starting to look up in my life. All of my plans, my outlook for the future, were suddenly reset to zero.
With this in mind, I’ve gone back and forth on trying to decide how I feel about 2011 all together. To be blessed with such a monumental accomplishment, only to be left feeling completely empty days later. How do you describe it? Where do you go from there? There are no words. I can’t put this past year in a box.
So here’s my resolution for the new year:
“Keep your head up, keep your heart strong.
May you find happiness here.
May all your hopes all turn out right.”
twitching in the sheets -
to face the sunlight again,
that’s clearly
trouble.
I like the city better when the
neon lights are going and
the nudies dance on top of the
bar
to the mauling music.
I’m under this sheet
thinking.
my nerves are hampered by
history -
the most memorable concern of mankind
is the guts it takes to
face the sunlight again.
love begins at the meeting of two
strangers. love for the world is
impossible. I’d rather stay in bed
and sleep.
dizzied by the days and the streets and the years
I pull the sheets to my neck.
I turn my ass to the wall.
I hate the mornings more than
any man.
- Charles Bukowski -
Maybe someday I’ll look back at this note and realize how wrong I was, but how terribly sad and frightening to think if thats not the case.
Its been 5 months and 7 days. Or 22 weeks. Or 160 days. Possibly 3840 hours. I’ve never been good at math, but surprisingly I always get this one right. Somedays hurt more than others. The frequency of complete and total shambles was a little higher in the beginning. Yet somehow, you still slip into my mind. Often. It doesn’t matter what I’m doing, or how well I’m preoccupied. I see something, hear something, feel something, and dammit, I think of you.
I bottle it in. I try and focus on my breathing. I look outside my window. Sometimes, its much too paralyzing. I’ll let myself go, but only if no one is around. To this day, no one really knows whats going on in my head. No one suspects a thing. Everyone else is too preoccupied with their own lives. I can’t say I blame them. Besides, I think this is the type of pain that can only be handled alone.
I wonder how you’re doing. I wonder if you’re happy. I wonder if you still think about me too. Shameless, I’ll admit. I wonder if you go through these motions too. Contentment to sheer ruin. Have you moved on? You told me I would eventually. I still haven’t. I don’t know when I will. If I will.
I’ll find things and relate it to exactly what I’m going through. Like this one quote I came across, I think its by Helen Keller.
“When one door of happiness closes, another opens; but often we look so long at the closed door that we do not see the one which has been opened for us.”
True, I’ll admit. This is one closed door I’ve been staring at since we fell apart. Nonetheless, I try to wander away from it, but my eyes still find their way back. And I have these moments, of desperation or something, when all I want to do is pry this fucking door off its hinges. Much to my chagrin, nothing ever budges. I wonder if you’d smile at the fact that I finally learned how to use the word “chagrin” in a sentence too. The small pleasantries that used to color my world…
I want you to know that I’m still trying, but after this amount of time, I still feel the same. I’m sorry.
