Ah, now, what to say? What is there ever to say? There are so many feelings, so much pressure, but never any release. Simple thoughts are never simple, I complicate them with unneeded explanations...
Memories are horribly painful, yet sweetly amazing things. I've lived in my memories lately, which is strange. In many ways, I'm on the brink of everything being great. I'll be living on campus next semester, which I'm psyched for. I've made a few friends, though I still know very few people on my campus. For one of those unneeded explanations, allow me to emphasize that this isn't because people avoid me or don't like me. Those I meet tend to like me (though obviously one cannot please everyone). I simply do not meet people. College students rarely interact during classes, unless forced to, and even then the focus is the work. Social lives are meant for times when one isn't in class. Coming in as an outside, having never been socialized on the campus and never been "forced" to meet people, it's hard to have a social life there. You go to class, you leave class, the end. I spend little time on campus when I'm not in class- I leave as soon as I'm done.
Perhaps I really do isolate myself...who's to say?
Back to the point- memories. Smell has always been a particular nostalgia-inducing sense for me. It is for everyone, but there's a reason I get excited when things "smell like fall" or "smell like christmas". I mean them...and fall and christmas are times I associate with happiness, thinness (happiness), comfort, and relaxation. Fall is rarely ever comforting or relaxing, especially when I do FF, because I'm so busy...yet still.
Smell makes things painful. I miss Truman in a very painful, poignant way. I realize that if I had gone back there, I would most likely have remained as miserable as I had been before. And I have pinpointed this mainly to location. Mary Washington is very similar to Truman, except much nearer to...well...civilization. And while I isolate myself, if I want to up and drive to say, Richmond, then I want to be able to do it. At Truman, one faced a 90 minute drive of solitude and flat planes in order to get anywhere. Location is a lot.
I miss the campus, I miss the people. But mostly I miss odd little things, things I didn't realize I would miss. I knew I would miss the people. I knew I would miss Mo Hall and campus and classes there. I knew I'd miss Dr.Harker =D. But I find myself instead thinking about the Rec, or parties at Rachel's house, or sitting in my car with Autumn hijacking my music, playing Nine Inch Nails.
Those things are the painful ones. Nuances, I suppose...people's laughs. Smells, as I've said. The way the carpet in Mo Hall looked on the long trek to the bathroom at 4 A.M.
And this brings me to Seth. I don't miss Seth himself. In fact, until the dreams I've had in which he's been involved, I haven't really thought of him much. He's part of my past, something that seemed too good to be true and was. He lost me a friend and distanced me from another, which I am bitter about. Seth is an angry person, an unhappy person. I see him as gaping, if you will. He wants and yearns for so much, and yet he's always left empty, because he knows he'll never achieve it. He's sad, to be completely honest- I pity him. He's never had a family's love, and never will he truly know it, because of the personality he has committed himself to so wholly. He will never be successful, because he won't allow himself to be. He would rather wallow in his own misery and blame it on others. Perhaps it's easier for him than facing the real world, the world where people smarter and less naive than me can see through him.
I miss being with Seth. I miss the feelings and the touches and the smells. I miss the elation at knowing someone else thought I was great. He didn't think I was great after all, but he had me pretty convinced. He actually seemed to have thought me a bit of a joke, but that's alright...comparing my life to his, I think the joke is on him.
When I was with Seth, I thought I understood love songs. I thought, I'm finally at that place that I've longed for...the place where someone else can fill up the hole I can't fill on my own. I saw things differently, and I saw things more negatively (an effect Seth has, I learned). I isolated myself from my friends because they didn't understand. Now I know that they did understand- they saw him as sketchy, untrustworthy. But I vested all of my trust in Oz, and thus in what Oz told Autumn to say. Autumn told me the truth about Seth from the start...that she didn't trust him. She was the one that told him he had to break up with Tanya (which he didn't actually do). She was the one that gave me doubts, and I hated that. I hated the doubts and insecurities she gave me. Now, of course, I realize that she was right. Whether this was out of true concern or something else- Autumn is extremely difficult to read- I might never know. But she was right. MY doubts were right. I picked up on things, Seth denied them vehemently.
Oh, that word. One of the things that sucked me so easily in to his "spell" was that he noticed things about me that most people never do. He complimented my history knowledge, and he commented on my larger-than-average vocabulary. Perhaps I'm hungrier than I thought for these compliments. According to my friends, things like that go without saying with me. According to my friends, I'm pretty, I'm smart, etc, and no one should have to tell me these things. Christen once said, "We all see it, so I guess it's kind of hard for us to understand why YOU don't see it. It's so obvious". Something along those lines.
Maybe she was right. Maybe I should see it...but I don't. I somehow see myself as completely average most of the time. I compare myself to only the best- the best student in each class, the thinnest girl in each room. I'm constantly on my guard, aware of my body taking up space, of my words and how they impact people. This automatically allows for comparison. And I overthink. Did I say that right? Did I word that okay? Is my shirt at the right level compared with the skirt I'm wearing? Does anyone notice that this shoe has a small stain on it? Are people seeing my thighs and wondering why I'm in public? Are people looking at me from the corners of their eyes, wondering why is that girl eating? she's fat enough as is.
The only times I really think of the way others perceive me is when I think it's negative. Which is most of the time. I get nervous when people look at me, or smile at me, because I worry that I look stupid or am doing something wrong. How one can fuck up a smile is beyond me, but my mind tells me I am. Only when I'm in the best of moods, with the best of confidence, do I think, that guy is probably looking at me because he thinks I'm cute.. Or even that someone might be noticing the dress I'm wearing and liking it.
I intimidate people- I know that. Once again, friends have told me this. I'm intimidating, because I seem, outwardly, to be confident and strong. I can't even talk about my problems with my therapist, so I definitely can't express my feelings to my friends or people around me. I have a strong personality, but it's a defense, not something to be proud of. I'm not strong because of true strength. I'm strong because I'm afraid. I fear everything, I fear people. I get anxiety at the most minor social situation. Phone conversations exhaust me. So I come across as strong to seem to others that I'm confident and assertive. Perhaps it is a major overcompensation...if I come across this way to people, then in my mind, I'm coming across as ever so slightly normal.
It works, at least- to others, I seem the way I should.
Where am I going with this? Who knows. I don't know much right now, except that I needed to write, desperately. This is only a small fraction of everything that needs to get out, but at least some of it got out. I have no means to express my feelings anymore...over the years, I've done it through art, clothing, writing, music...now, I bottle everything up, I become angrier and angrier and more and more bitter. I'm bitter toward everything, everything except the most innocent of subjects. Perhaps I'm the most bitter toward myself and the person I will never be.
I fear for my future. I'm scared of who I am and who I will be. Scared that I will never "find myself". I can't even describe myself to people, and like I said, I can't even talk to my therapist. This isn't because I don't want to, but because I don't know what there is about me to say. I don't know what's there, who's there, what's going on, half of the time. I just do what I'm supposed to. When I find myself drifting off into my own thoughts...well, perhaps I should allow that to happen more often.