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It's 2:30am and I really shouldn't be up. I stayed up late last night, and was tired all day. What good is the weekend if you can't catch up on sleep? But I think I'm up because this is one of my favorite times of the day (night, really). This is when, if you're talking to someone, the most important talking occurs... it never happens when you're well-rested - that would be too easy. No, instead, it happens when you're forcing your eyes to stay open. When you hang onto every word, not just because it's important, but because if you don't, you'll probably fall asleep. When there's this constant thought running through your mind of, I hope I remember all of this in the morning. Everyone always seemed to wonder why I subjected myself to that sort of thing, that sort of half-awake, seemingly meaningless conversation. I guess that's my fault, because I led you all to believe that it drove me crazy. And it did, a little, but I really loved it all the same. That's how I am, of course. I complain endlessly about the things I love, and I don't know why. It must be hard to be on the outside, trying to separate what I love and what I really don't. That is, if anyone cares enough to do that. Somedays, like today, I feel that isn't the case.
I miss those late nights the most. So maybe I'm up now, hoping without actual hope that tonight could be one of them. These days, I just want to turn back time, because I'm not really sure when it became so much more complicated. Five months ago, I thought my life was falling apart. Little did I realize that I would get everything that I wanted in that moment (well, okay, not everything, but everything I was willing to admit I wanted), but the cost would be that I would actually tear my life apart. I wonder a lot about how much of this is my fault. I wonder how, despite not thinking of a single thing that is really wrong with my life right now, how everything got so much more complicated in such a short span of time.
So now I'm trying to convince myself that this is for the best. Of course I always do that, but it's hard not to default to that when I've been telling myself for so long that I would be better off if things were like this. But my goodness, are they really? I mean, am I really any happier now? Will I ever actually be happy? And by happy, I mean other than these crazy bursts of bliss and contentment I get that are so fleeting.
My mind just turned to high expectations. My expectations are now zero. I thought this was better. Then it occurred to me all of those times that I set my expectations as low as they could go, and I was astounded by how much someone thought of me. How much they actually cared. I wonder if I'm going to have that moment again. Because to be honest, I thought it wasn't fair of me, to think so low. So I started having higher expectations. I think that's a true sign of friendship, when you actually start to believe and sometimes even know that someone will come through for you. And I guess it was right around that time that I stopped being "pleasantly surprised." So maybe my concept of friendship is totally out of sync and unrealistic.
I think I might have figured it out this time. If I could just talk through all of this, I think what I want and what I've been feeling may actually have somehow gotten sorted out in my mind. Why I do the things I do, why I think the way I think.... well, in some situations. But no one is there to listen now, it seems, so I don't think it'll ever get done.
I keep acting like I've put all of my eggs in one basket, when I get constant reminders that it isn't that case at all. Why does the one aspect of my life that's slipping away have to be the only one I seem to really care about these days?
The critics were right... I wasn't ready for it.
- Lizzardie, at 2:38 AM
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