Wednesday, January 20, 2010

An End of An Experiment (Part 10)

Part 10

As a distraction to this whole sorted ordeal, I found myself in another situation where love was the main course of discussion. To call a spade a spade is only fair, and this was a rebound. That lasted over 3 years. To whom I loved, I was always guarded. Until one day I wasn't and I got what for. A broken heart. Another bright-eyed, wild youth who let me in with no reservations to wreck havoc among his glass hopes with my heavy bull horns. It's not that I couldn't be all that he wanted, in fact it was truly the other way, but in my sentiment I didn't want to let go of love. For a year and half it was passion, private fights, and convenience. This is the first relationship that put into perspective and where I could rightfully admit that I liked being a "girlfriend" and being in "love," and while I had standards, it almost didn't matter who you were. It was more about what you could do for me. The victim comes to terms with being the victor. It was only a matter of time for this episode to come to an end, and subconsciously I put myself in the position to pay a penance for past broken hearts and bruised egos. I was sick with heartache for the better part of a year. It was private battle as pride dictates, by my life was permeated with doubt and realization of the pattern I have come to play out in my interpersonal life.

Woof. I remember that the original act of putting to paper these words was physically draining... myself hunched over a typewriter with cold finger tips pounding onto the keys and the deep breath I took after it was all said and done... once I finished it, I folded the papers in half and didn't look at them again for a solid couple weeks. Now that I've have time to reflect piece by piece and as a whole, the experience is taxing in different sort of way. Before it was a relief and now it's almost instilled an anticipation ... a little bit of "what comes next?" I told you that sometimes when I write, it's like once it's on the page, I don't recognize myself as the author. Maybe its easier that way because sometimes I am embarrassed that this is what has been longing to come out and is the first thing that appears when given free reign. Sometimes, I'm not. Perhaps, not to long into the future, I will try this experiment again.