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A journal Entry, a bad day, and a confused rabbit... X/
13 years ago
General
3/27/12
Had an interesting and yet... numbing day. It started out fairly slow and felt a little hazy. Dare and Kasel were playing games. I, lacking a better thought as to what to do to make better use of my time scanned Raulin's bookshelf. Upon finding a copy of Dog Days of Summer by the furry artist Blotch, I hopped on top of the bunk bed and started reading it.
At first I lapped up the art and was really enjoying the story. I had read the prequel and was interested in the characters. The more I read, however, the more I discovered that I really identified with my... first relationship. The issue I had most with reading the comic was that the main character was very very similar to my ex. He had seemingly lost all love for me abruptly and left me to yiff promiscuously with strangers who could offer him a sense of... "happiness".
Reading each page was like going further and further underwater. I felt the pressure building in my head and my ears began to want to pop. My heart was sinking and beating harder in my chest. I didn't like the feeling but I kept reading, nearly on the verge of tears. The secondary character, Bayshore, was like my mirror image, though I wish I could be as strong as him emotionally over the same issue.
I finished up the comic, having to skim through a few pages to avoid breaking down emotionally. I began to question why I had kept reading. The story reflected the happy ending to the recovery I now seek. It made me question the integrity of whether people can change. I had heard from different people of whether anyone could "truly" ever change from who they are. I began to wonder if I ever crossed his mind. I needed a break or some form of escape.
Hopping down from the bed I told everyone present that I was going for a walk and prayed no one would follow me. I could feel each step in my head as I walked, as if my ears had been stoppered up. I walked to the elevator and felt a dread seeping deep into my stomach. My eyes, which normally see vivid colors because of my synathesia greyed everything out. I wanted to just cry in the elevator but I couldn't let myself.
I walked out to Dragon Park. It was a good mile or so maybe depending on how far I'd imagine a mile to be. I walked past the students of Vanderbilt, the smokestack(s) of the big generator on campus, the parking garages, the stadium, and finally arrived at the park in no better a mood than before.
I looked at the wonderful sunshine around me landing on the grass. Everything was perfect. The wind, the sun, the clouds, all enforced an atmosphere that mocked my growing depression. I couldn't decide what to do at the park so I sat at a bench and mulled over quite a few of the thoughts cramped inside my head.
I couldn't understand why I'm given so many compliments. I've been told I look like Adonis, exclaimed to be heavenly, and caring, and amazing, and irresistible by nearly everyone I've shown affection to or get close to. Those are wonderful things. But how is it that the one person I want to understand, forgive, accept, and love me is the one person in this whole world I can't even approach? It is... utterly devestating to say the least. To know that no matter how much money you can spend or how many hours you devote to this one objective... nothing will ever result from it.
I climbed all of the equipment at the park to exercise my muscles and relax. I wanted to suppress the horrid thoughts of my ex. I hated this. It'd kept happening for the past months since before christmas, and every time I had thought I had pulled him out of my mind and away from my heart, something reminds me of him and makes me realize just how much I had and how hard it is to find someone of the same caliber. I've been told that he wasn't worth it and that I deserve better, but those words only prop me up as being someone higher than him. I hated feeling that way.
I had wanted to write apologies to him for weeks. People told me he said "I will never forgive him. I'll move past it but I'd never forgive him." And so, I didn't send them. I didn't want to make him angry. I hadn't done what I did in anger or in spite. I can't say I did it with a clear head but what drove us impossibly apart was something that I had done because I truly cared and was scared for him. I pray every night that maybe one day he'll see that I just wanted to help. As misguided as an attempt as it was, I feel my heart was in the right place.
I saw many people. I saw daughters and husbands and wives and brother and sisters and aunts and uncles. I saw kids playing soccer, climbing ladders, swinging on swings, and laughing. I saw happiness. It was a very care free commoditee. The pain began to subside and I tried to enjoy the sun. I tried to relish in the fact that I was on my Spring break, but still it persisted.
I had had dates beforehand. During our first skirmish, I refused to go back to him, but I dated others. Every one of them enjoyed my time with them. Each of them had no problem with me as a person or as a mate. I, however, could never find the same connectivity with them. Each relationship lasting mere weeks to determine that I was in a still born affection.
I cursed what my first love had done to me. He had coiled his way around my heart and with the fight we had undertaken, it had been ripped out. I was hazy on what I was comfortable with or what I wanted. Aesthetic, personal values, morals, background, and future plans all became a check list for each potential mate. Failing any of the criteria, I searched for the next possbile true love, knowing I had been face-to-face with mine and killed every chance of having him.
My friends arrived as I hit the anger phase of my memories. I could think of how many meaningless, loveless encounters he had most likely encountered. How much better he must of though of them than me. It made me sick and at the same time, heart broken. I began to remember how the main character of the comic had changed. How he had realized that someone had actually really loved him. I wished so badly in my heart that Aaron could do that.
I knew in my heart and in my logic that it would not happen. I couldn't say for sure, but the logic was impossibly downing. Aaron didn't think I loved him. He thought I wanted to break into his house and kill him. He thought I was insane or deeply lost... or gone. He probably thought I was a freak, an emotional heartbreak, and worthless. He had said he never really liked people unless they could do something for him... I suppose I can't do anything for him and I couldn't do anything for him then either so there is no real hope of him ever thinking of me.
I moved on in my day. I had to. My friend arrived at the park and I hadn't wanted to come across as emotional. I wanted to cry. I wanted to go home. I wanted everything to just be better but I couldn't fix this problem. I haven't been able to fix this problem for months and I somehow fear it will be a very long time before it is exorcised from me.
It had taken an entire year for the Dingo main character in the comic to come to his realization... I sometimes think it may surprise me to find a note from him on FA or even a text in the long future but I've actually abandoned hope of any and all communication. I suppose I picked a rabbit for my fursona for another reason. Rabbits never seem to be able to dictate much. We just get by on luck. Well... after writing and reading this over... I find that today has been a very depressing day it would seem. :/
Had an interesting and yet... numbing day. It started out fairly slow and felt a little hazy. Dare and Kasel were playing games. I, lacking a better thought as to what to do to make better use of my time scanned Raulin's bookshelf. Upon finding a copy of Dog Days of Summer by the furry artist Blotch, I hopped on top of the bunk bed and started reading it.
At first I lapped up the art and was really enjoying the story. I had read the prequel and was interested in the characters. The more I read, however, the more I discovered that I really identified with my... first relationship. The issue I had most with reading the comic was that the main character was very very similar to my ex. He had seemingly lost all love for me abruptly and left me to yiff promiscuously with strangers who could offer him a sense of... "happiness".
Reading each page was like going further and further underwater. I felt the pressure building in my head and my ears began to want to pop. My heart was sinking and beating harder in my chest. I didn't like the feeling but I kept reading, nearly on the verge of tears. The secondary character, Bayshore, was like my mirror image, though I wish I could be as strong as him emotionally over the same issue.
I finished up the comic, having to skim through a few pages to avoid breaking down emotionally. I began to question why I had kept reading. The story reflected the happy ending to the recovery I now seek. It made me question the integrity of whether people can change. I had heard from different people of whether anyone could "truly" ever change from who they are. I began to wonder if I ever crossed his mind. I needed a break or some form of escape.
Hopping down from the bed I told everyone present that I was going for a walk and prayed no one would follow me. I could feel each step in my head as I walked, as if my ears had been stoppered up. I walked to the elevator and felt a dread seeping deep into my stomach. My eyes, which normally see vivid colors because of my synathesia greyed everything out. I wanted to just cry in the elevator but I couldn't let myself.
I walked out to Dragon Park. It was a good mile or so maybe depending on how far I'd imagine a mile to be. I walked past the students of Vanderbilt, the smokestack(s) of the big generator on campus, the parking garages, the stadium, and finally arrived at the park in no better a mood than before.
I looked at the wonderful sunshine around me landing on the grass. Everything was perfect. The wind, the sun, the clouds, all enforced an atmosphere that mocked my growing depression. I couldn't decide what to do at the park so I sat at a bench and mulled over quite a few of the thoughts cramped inside my head.
I couldn't understand why I'm given so many compliments. I've been told I look like Adonis, exclaimed to be heavenly, and caring, and amazing, and irresistible by nearly everyone I've shown affection to or get close to. Those are wonderful things. But how is it that the one person I want to understand, forgive, accept, and love me is the one person in this whole world I can't even approach? It is... utterly devestating to say the least. To know that no matter how much money you can spend or how many hours you devote to this one objective... nothing will ever result from it.
I climbed all of the equipment at the park to exercise my muscles and relax. I wanted to suppress the horrid thoughts of my ex. I hated this. It'd kept happening for the past months since before christmas, and every time I had thought I had pulled him out of my mind and away from my heart, something reminds me of him and makes me realize just how much I had and how hard it is to find someone of the same caliber. I've been told that he wasn't worth it and that I deserve better, but those words only prop me up as being someone higher than him. I hated feeling that way.
I had wanted to write apologies to him for weeks. People told me he said "I will never forgive him. I'll move past it but I'd never forgive him." And so, I didn't send them. I didn't want to make him angry. I hadn't done what I did in anger or in spite. I can't say I did it with a clear head but what drove us impossibly apart was something that I had done because I truly cared and was scared for him. I pray every night that maybe one day he'll see that I just wanted to help. As misguided as an attempt as it was, I feel my heart was in the right place.
I saw many people. I saw daughters and husbands and wives and brother and sisters and aunts and uncles. I saw kids playing soccer, climbing ladders, swinging on swings, and laughing. I saw happiness. It was a very care free commoditee. The pain began to subside and I tried to enjoy the sun. I tried to relish in the fact that I was on my Spring break, but still it persisted.
I had had dates beforehand. During our first skirmish, I refused to go back to him, but I dated others. Every one of them enjoyed my time with them. Each of them had no problem with me as a person or as a mate. I, however, could never find the same connectivity with them. Each relationship lasting mere weeks to determine that I was in a still born affection.
I cursed what my first love had done to me. He had coiled his way around my heart and with the fight we had undertaken, it had been ripped out. I was hazy on what I was comfortable with or what I wanted. Aesthetic, personal values, morals, background, and future plans all became a check list for each potential mate. Failing any of the criteria, I searched for the next possbile true love, knowing I had been face-to-face with mine and killed every chance of having him.
My friends arrived as I hit the anger phase of my memories. I could think of how many meaningless, loveless encounters he had most likely encountered. How much better he must of though of them than me. It made me sick and at the same time, heart broken. I began to remember how the main character of the comic had changed. How he had realized that someone had actually really loved him. I wished so badly in my heart that Aaron could do that.
I knew in my heart and in my logic that it would not happen. I couldn't say for sure, but the logic was impossibly downing. Aaron didn't think I loved him. He thought I wanted to break into his house and kill him. He thought I was insane or deeply lost... or gone. He probably thought I was a freak, an emotional heartbreak, and worthless. He had said he never really liked people unless they could do something for him... I suppose I can't do anything for him and I couldn't do anything for him then either so there is no real hope of him ever thinking of me.
I moved on in my day. I had to. My friend arrived at the park and I hadn't wanted to come across as emotional. I wanted to cry. I wanted to go home. I wanted everything to just be better but I couldn't fix this problem. I haven't been able to fix this problem for months and I somehow fear it will be a very long time before it is exorcised from me.
It had taken an entire year for the Dingo main character in the comic to come to his realization... I sometimes think it may surprise me to find a note from him on FA or even a text in the long future but I've actually abandoned hope of any and all communication. I suppose I picked a rabbit for my fursona for another reason. Rabbits never seem to be able to dictate much. We just get by on luck. Well... after writing and reading this over... I find that today has been a very depressing day it would seem. :/
-Crappy doodle is crappy-