come vivaldi, to my carnivale

I broke it off with Siya. Really broke it off - it's final and out in the open now. And despite knowing that I don't love him, I still miss him. Miss him something awful.
misshimmisshimmisshimmisshimmisshim... am i pathetic? I try to avoid thinking of his reaction. Would he hate me? Would he be hurt? I'm torn between hoping he cared enough to hurt, and hoping he'd just accept it as something he expected. Urgh. I don't like this.

I can see how people often confuse, I suppose, 'comfort, security and reliance' with 'love'. If I allow myself, I can give in to the confusion:
why does it ache right here? why do I only think of him? why does the thought that we may never speak again kill me? is this love? were we in love?.
Objectively I know it's all rubbish. We never knew each other enough for there to be any love beyond the superficial. There is no future, and both of us knew it from the start - so much things were against us: culture, language, distance - how do you love something impossible? But I suppose a part of me flourished at having him there caring for me, someone who isn't required by blood to do so. I relied on that and took his being there for granted. And now that he know he won't be back anymore I feel bare, lonely...unsupported and vulnerable. Oh I am awful sometimes.

I guess he was my first-- my first. And for that I will always remember him.

Gosh I suck at relationships. I hate that it is actually true. I hate that I can't trust and give everything of myself to another person. I hate that I can't love and be loved like in the way that fairytales and love songs and corny romance movies (all of which i am girl enough to adore) play it out. Why is the idea of love so scary?

I haven't been on livejournal in ages, and today it has become strange, unfamiliar. I'm sick. I don't like being sick, I never liked been sick. But I particularly don't like being sick this time. I had huge plans you know. Huge plans that involved jumping on the vline and going somewhere random and away because it feels like i've stayed in melbourne forever, although really it has only been a month. But being sick has pushed all thoughts of going away away, and these days are instead filled with me acting entirely too pitiable in my admittedly pitiable state amongst a castle of used tissues.

I'm getting better now though and I can feel myself needing to do Things. I'm going to start photojournaling I've decided. The problem of course is the lack of essential equipment, i.e. a digital camera. I do have my eyes on a certain Canon s5, but I suspect until I succeed in saving, I'll be borrowing my brother's.

It has gotten easier being home alone. The first couple of days were horrible. I never realised how much importance I placed on my parents and brother in my identification of Home until they were gone. Without them the house itself was just a big empty house. It wasn't really Home, and the fact that I had to stay here and look at it as Home somehow accentuated the loneliness. It's very much better now. I have, it seems, taken over the entire house. My clothes scatter everywere, and evidence of my bad habits also scatter everywhere. Now the house has truly become my home, and perhaps this will be problematic when my brother gets back and wants the house to be his home as well. We are, however, adaptable creatures. And I am always willing to share.

I saw Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants last night. The story of Lena in Greece and her inability to let anyone in, despite never having experienced hurt before - I wonder if that is me. Except instead of shying away from intimacy, I seek it out, or at the very least, embrace it when it comes. But permanency terrifies me. I have so much I want to do, need to do, I can't be tied down by somebody who I probably won't get along with, who probably won't get along with me. Who I'll probably never really let in, because I have yet to meet anyone I'd trust with my whole self. This is so difficult to voice, it's all in a hedious jumble of emotions and thoughts and fears that can't seem to be untangled. I don't want to end on such a depressing note.

I think I want to learn the guitar. I remember wanting to about a year ago but never following it through - either because I have always been more of a 'more action less words' girl, or finances, or life just got in the way. But in Chiangmai, camping with the Karen family, the boys strumming their guitar to Hotel California, that was magical. Everytime I think back to that moment it is as if I forget to breath and am filled with fresh pure oxygen at the same time. There is so much love in that moment. Love for these boys, love for people, love for nature, for music, for night, for song, for life. Perhaps I want to recreate that perfect moment of harmony by learning the guitar, by touching it and making it sing. Perhaps I am just looking for ways to occupy time. Perhaps I just need to possess a guitar because I am a greedy greedy girl. But no matter what, I know a guitar will make me happy, and learning it will definitely make my life richer. So yes, end of justification.

It's Winter officially today.

I love the idea of winter. The memory of frozen numb fingertips, snuggling up to mile long woolies and long thick stockings with chunky leather boots. Thinking of them makes me happy. But right now, typing this out, struggling to move these frozen numb fingertips, it doesn't seem as romantic as my memories of winters of yesterday was.

Less abstract news. I am so sick of this essay. Which is funny because I haven't so much as worked on it as pretended to work on it. I am nowhere. And the thought makes me angry and frustrated and constantly searching for ways to forget.

It's stupid. Because I know so clearly that this essay isn't what's important. My average in this subject is awesome. I can probably fail this essay and still pass well. But I'm stupid and perfectionist and unable to get over this barrier to do more important things. Like namely study for Contracts which is really the crux of the matter.

Please somebody stab my essay right now.

I have spent so much money over the past couple of days - my ebay addiction has re-ignited - and now I've discovered the wonderful world of M.A.C. pigments. Stocktake season coming soon. This does not bode well for my bank account. Nor my inpending Essays Of Doom.

-.-

But my Review jeans arrived yesterday. LOVE! Didn't think they made jeans, and such nicely fitting and comfy ones at that. I love Review. But I don't love how much they're costing me.

I got really cute zodiac stamps today.

Libra: Romantic and Indecisive



The indecisive part's definitely right.

And there's a virus going around. I can feel my lymph glands expanding everyday.

-.-

I've gone insane from lack of sleep, stress overload and a never ceasing pounding headache. This is the only explanation for even contemplating standing up in the middle of room and doing a Nobuta-power stance.

It's hard to break the momentum.

I want to sleep, but right now I have to function (BLEH!) and destroy that Stupid Essay That Shall Not Be Named.

Urgh.

Okay. Okay. I have a lolita complex.