I'll Be the One Who'll Break My Heart

Seeing crushes after months of not seeing them is just about the worst feeling in the world.

Now, if said crush, let's call him Jim (he's the identical Italian twin of Jim Halpert from The Office), had just gone on in life not knowing who I was and I eventually got over my infatuation, it certainly wouldn't have been as bad. Not as painful.

But Jim knows me. We didn't talk much, weren't much of friends though we could've been and I fucked it up. Well, I won't let him go totally blameless - he fucked up things too.

The not knowing hurts the worst. We didn't have an awkward moment where I confessed my feelings and he denied them. No, no. What happened was that I fell for him, invited him to a number of events (three of which were at my apartment) and "drunk" texted him and...he awkwardly avoided me.

Our romance could have been beautiful. Amazing. Maybe not long, maybe just friends - whatever. But something could've happened.

Until I fucked it up.

Now, I'm not one to hold many regrets but this is one of those that just hurts because at that point in my life, everything was messy and I further messed it up. That's right, me. I broke my own heart because I didn't just like this Jim. I was almost in love with him and I didn't do things the right way. I got carried away. Thus, I blame myself for being so stupid. Jim might be thinking that I'm just weird because I was obsessive not because I liked him. And that, in and of itself was where I really fucked up.

Anyway.

I saw him today. Couple of days back too. But today, we crossed paths. We made eye contact. I pretended that maybe it didn't happen and as we came closer he smiled, waved. I said "hey" and not too enthusiastically and with a fake smile to return his equally fake one. And in a uplifted tone he responded with, "hey".

Dramatic, I know.

It really doesn't matter. It meant nothing - especially to him.

But my heart, it races. I forgot how to breathe as he walked past me. I started tearing up. Felt my heart exploding. It was like a heart attack.

I don't know how to explain it. Especially since the entire time I kept reminding myself that he was a loser and didn't realize what he was missing out on but...

God. Crushes.

XOXO
Jacks

Threw You for a Loop

The easiest thing someone can do is lie to themselves. The lies start out small and slowly escalate until that someone has convinced themselves that that lie is true. They've altered what's real and soon, their altered minds cannot be swayed especially with the damage its undergone as more and more lies filter through.

I know what's right. I know that everyone around me is right. Why would someone who genuinely cares about me lie to me when the person is doing the most lying is me - the person who doesn't give a shit even when its me that needs the caring.

I don't want to be cared for. I don't want to succumb to the weakness, to the sob stories and the release of everything I've been holding back. Maybe its because I'm afraid. I'm one minute off from the bomb exploding.

I wish I cared. I wish I could see the pain and the hurt on some of their faces and ease their minds. Tell them that I'll be okay. I mean, I'm confident that eventually, I will be but I don't want them to worry. I want to worry about them. They are far more important. They've got amazing times ahead and things to see and do. I'm sure I've got the same but what have I done in the past when faced with amazing times, amazing people? I brush it under the rug and wait for something better.

And I hate that. There's no possible excuse for my behavior and my utter lack of caring.

I feel as though I'm falling apart. That everything is coming to a head and all I can do is balk up and feign that it matters. I know it does, of course, but I can't seem to reach that point just yet. All I can do right now is look at my very being being sliced apart by dull knives or the little puzzle pieces that make up Jacks coming apart and making a mess on the kitchen table.

I can't stop. I can't stop lying to myself that it will all go away. If I hole myself up or keep pushing it further back or fleeing to some other country - it will just go away.

And that, my dear readers, is the weak, selfish and stupid side of me talking because what sort of strong person runs away like that? What sort of strong person is so incredibly selfish? That's the part that's eating away at me - not so much the fact that I'm now also weak and stupid. What sort of strong person admits to any of it anyway?

None. Which means I'm nothing but weak anyway.
What a pickle I'm in.

XOXO
Jacks

I'm a Detached Breathing Appartus

This week is going to be a big week. And by "big", I mean emotionally so. Well, it should be at least.

The awareness is there. I know what this week means, specifically the date October 19th and I want to acknowledge it. No, I will acknowledge it; of course I will. But every time I've thought about it thus far, I feel miles away. Exactly like what the title of this entry says. I found it in a Sherlock fanfiction (which hurts me to admit so) called "The Paradox Sutie" (by wordstrings. She does deserve credit).

I'm currently a paradox. I used to think I was one of the most emotional people I knew. I cried during sappy films, sobbed over fanfiction that didn't really mean anything, weeped over two close friends' passing and cry whenever something upsets me to the very core which has mostly been the way people affect me.

Because that's what people do - they simply affect me.

I don't want them to. For a long time, I thought I was the strong one in the family. I didn't need a Bandaid for a papercut, I didn't need to go to the hospital for stomach pains, I didn't even need a kiss from Mom when I scraped my knees once again.

In the end, none of it mattered. I could get through it all when my sister couldn't or when one of my brothers complained too much. But then, I realized that I was still a baby. I was still weak because I let people into my life who would drive me nuts and make me cry and whine and for God's sake, why can't I just let them stop making me feel so terrible?

Sure, I let people walk over me. I've gotten better about it thanks to a certain Bestie. And really, people will go on affecting your life until you die.

But, that's the problem. I realized that right now, the one desire I've clung to the past few months and perhaps the past few years has always been the need to be alone because its really starting to weigh me down. Maybe that's why I'm no longer as emotive. It bothered me that I couldn't cry at the end of Boys Don't Cry, people. Seriously.

I guess that's why I'm feeling so hollow right now too. Going through the motions. Cold and fake as I think about the significance of this Wednesday. I don't blame her and I certainly don't blame God (no, not anymore). Usually, the blame would go to me. Everything is usually my fault so how was any of this any different?

And that's exactly why this time around is a little bit off. I forgave myself in bits and pieces over the past couple of months. I'm still not completely there. Because if I was completely and totally over it, I wouldn't be sitting at work, wondering what in the hell I'm going to do this dreaded Wednesday and worrying whether or not this little facade I've managed to build up will fall away.

She deserves that at least and because she affected me so, I shouldn't be worried that I won't let her down.

Sorry for the angst, dear reader. Don't worry about me like I'll try not to worry about you.

XOXO
Jacks

Who Knew?

I've been depressed lately. I hate using the word since never in my life have I actually been depressed (or aware of it, at least) and this time's no different. I also hate using it as an excuse because, well, my sister does. A lot. Which, okay, yes, depression hurts. It's a terrible mental disorder that affects more people than we'd like to hope aren't and where do I get off in downplaying something that's somewhat untreatable and just awful?

I don't so I'm not going to. I'm just saying how I feel about it because I hate it with a mighty vengeance and I also hate admitting that I was upset in the first place.

ANYWAY.

I've been sad lately and I know exactly why but...things are starting to look up. There's still the rift between me and family and things don't always work out like they should (when will they ever) and generally, a lot of things are rather shitty but its not like I think about how upset I am all the time.

Thus, I discovered how happy I really am doing my job at the radio station. Its a pain in the ass and I feel extremely guilty for not doing this sooner but I was upset and when I'm upset I want to punch babies and crawl into a hole and die - not do my fucking job, sorry. Usually I fight all the anger down and just do it but lately, this hasn't been option.

Until today.

Today, I was determined. I made myself login to my work e-mail account and really go through all the e-mails from various bands. I made myself download all the music, burn all the CDs, and even send a couple of e-mails that basically said, "It's not you, it's me". And then a fellow employee waltzes in asking about submitting a new show and asking if I could help while I'm rocking out to this fantastic band (RoomFour) and...

Well, to be honest, I'm tearing up.

Who knew that all along, if I had just bucked up and actually, I don't know, did what I love so much and feel so passionate about, fuck all the shit that makes me upset and let me LIVE and work and support these local bands who deserve all the fans in the world that I'd almost automatically feel better?

Sigh.

And, no matter if you care or not dear reader, I feel better letting this all out.

I've been upset, sad, depressed for far too long. It's time to crawl out of the hole, go to a concert and LOVE.

XOXO
Jacks

P.S. Just for shits and giggles:

I'm Giving You a Nightcall to Tell You How I Feel

Do you ever wonder if attractive people, specifically actors and actresses, one day as a child dreamt of having scores of people obsessed with them? Today, do they think, wow, why the hell are people so aroused by me and do drastic things just to touch my shoulder?

Or do they simply toddle about, glad that at least a heavyset man in his late forties has a deep desire to check for any new twitter posts from you EVERY NIGHT.

I would just like to think that some of those stars know how hard it is to be dedicated to someone they'll probably never meet and have created so much for various fandoms because they just enjoy their character or appearance that much.

If not, I'd like to remain naive in believing that one day I'll meet one of my obsessions and they'll think its endearingly adorable that I'm obsessed with them.

Though I wouldn't blame them if they were exponentially creeped out every time they read anything I've written. Anywhere.

God, I'm embarrassing.