All of them. Burn in hell.
Do you want a song of glory?
Do you want a song of glory?
Although I talk about getting married one day, which is apparently "every girls' dream", it's not always mine. The thought of commitment scares me silly, actually. Alike giving birth. What about the commitment which scares me so much is that 5, 10 or even 20+ years down the track, would he still love me like he did when he first asked "Will you marry me?" Will he like me when I get a bob cut, or what if I stunt my growth vertically and I start expanding horizontally? (Not that I have any problem with gaining weight, I'm happy with myself. My want of being overweight is just preferable choice.) Or what if I would be the one to fall out completely? I wanna know, but at the same time I don't. I don't wanna jinx it either.
As immature as it sounds, I've had the whole marriage conversation with my two previous ex-boyfriends. With the first ex-boyfriend I had the "talk" with, he was certain that we'd grow old together from the moment he set eyes on me. He was my first love, and I was his. He even went to the extent of proposing to me a whole year and a half later. I went along with it, I thought it was sweet. The word 'forever' then came into the picture. We'd used that word so freely and uncaringly, which to us, lost its meaning.
We were the on and off type, we argued every time we spoke to each other after that. He was selfish and uncompassionate, I was stubborn and got sick of having to put up with him. And then I ended it for good, I eventually fell out of love. I promised not to talk about marriage with anyone else until I reach the perfect age, and I never used the word 'forever' or anything similar to that context thereafter. For a long time I even thought that he was the man of my dreams, until he came.
The most recent ex-boyfriend, I lost interest in all things 'male' after I lost him. I haven't been this single for so long since I entered the World of Dating. Back to the subject, I was his first love. Unfortunately, it wasn't the same - although it felt like he was my first love. I was careful this time when it came to using certain words, etc. I also had the marriage-talk with him. I tried to be careful this time, not trying to set ideas since we were still young. His words were nothing like the boy before him, he was much sweeter. And from the way he spoke, there was no way I could deny that he loved me.
One afternoon while we were out, some stranger from the street asked if we were married, my ex-boyfriend never gave me the chance to respond - let alone open my mouth. Instead he answered for the both of us and said "Not yet." Eventually, I got lovestruck. So after that, whenever we talked about us being 'together' in the future, I never did think twice although I was still aware of what I was doing. I felt so certain about the both of us, I was all fo' shiz'd. No, we never did any "planning of the future". That would've been past extreme. Even though I promised earlier that I wouldn't speak of marriage with anyone else until the time was right, I never regret breaking it.
Then he left, and life moved on.
'Cause what I fear is so sweet...
It was actually 6 days later."Well heaven knows that without you is how I disappear, and live my life alone forever now. Can you hear me cry out to you? Words I thought I'd choke on, figure out. I'm really not so with you anymore; I'm just a ghost. So I can't hurt you anymore, so I can't hurt you anymore!" - My Chemical Romance
Just not quite.
I also came back from Mt Hotham last Friday night. The experience was amazing and I learnt how to snowboard. Although my wishes of forgetting what I left behind here was unfulfilled, I'm still continuing in fighting for my heart's release - redemption.
Short blog for today, I'm not in quite the happiest mood - hense the title "The Glass Half Empty".
This is how I disappear.
As quoted, yes I am leaving - for the week. Up to Mt. Hotham for some ski/snowboarding experience. I wish I could stay longer than just a week, I would stay there forever - just to escape from suburban life and all my memories based down here. I'm desperate for a new start. It's too bad I can't stay too long though, it's $140 a night and I'm not willing to pay more than $900 (incl. gear rent). It's ridiculous, but fairly priced, I guess. People have got to realise that not everyone can earn a decent amount of money, especially at my age. At my age, what you'd earn from work would be considered pocket money - my parents make me live on my own money, even paying for my own trip. The least you can do is be reasonable, consider my age. I'm not independent, not yet.Escape? Such cowardice I bear. I never learn, do I?
They aren't the only things I've been recalling though. I've recalled my passion for art, the willingness I displace into my graphite pencil as I move my hand - my arm - across the smooth sheet of glowing paper. Colour. Colour, I've been using colour. I've never used colour this way before, everything I used to draw was in shades of black and white - but not anymore. Sculptures, my hand engraves strength and meaningful texture onto the clay, shaping the perfect roughness of the man's forehead and bearded chin. I could go on about how I've regained my fervour for art. I've never had this much emotion to create such amazing pieces - I guess being emotional does have its advantages. Back to the Resistáns (Swedish), my inconsiderate behaviour has been surfacing after time has buried it so deep down under. I resist against resistance, fighting fire with fire. But it seems almost impossible. I'm resisting against love, I can't fall again. I've realised - after the countless times my mother, quotes, movies, music, friends have told me - time heals all. It's undeniable. Love, relationships, anything strong emotioned - it's like alcohol. Nothing can lower the alcohol level in your blood, nothing but time. Eating more bread or nibbles won't make you sober, drinking water doesn't do any good. You've got to let time get it out of your system. Just like love.
I can't do anything now, my heart's trying to strangle itself discreetly. But I know what it's doing. So all I've got to do - and all I can do - is just be patient and let time pass. That's how I see it. This trip to Mt. Hotham will be good for me, I can only pray.
Patience, that's all it takes.
Gosh, I can't wait to be sober.