outer-jessie's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Even doubting my doubts I think I am older than I used to be. I mean, of course, I am - that is a stupid thing to say. But I feel a much greater distance from the me's there used to be than I did even just a few years ago. But then again, there are a lot more of them than there used to be, huh. That'll be an on-going process, growing and shedding Jessies until, I don't know, until I die. Even old people change their shapes and identities, and I guess even posthumously the world can rework the memory of us. But that's different. And besides, I don't think the world I leave behind will have much occasion to think of me after I die anyway. It's funny that I still don't feel very far removed from my childhood, even now that I'm nearly a hundred and a half (or whatever). Maybe that's because I'm in much better practice identifying with my childhood self, since it was the first of my selves to become distinct. Or maybe it's because I still do stupid things like shattering a water glass at Denny's and childish things like throwing the remote at the wall when I'm angry. And I still like tea parties. Anyway, I don't know how I got on the topic of feeling old. I've ALWAYS felt old, even when I was a young whippersnapper, so I don't know why I'm getting hung up on it all over again. Maybe I'm just looking for another excuse to hate myself - which is a big fat waste of time, as there are all these other excuses to hate myself just lying around ready for the taking. At the risk of repeating myself: ANYWAY. Going home to see my parents, and spending with them what little time they could bear to be in my presence, has definitely caused me to re-question my own worth. They so easily see all the horrible things in me that I am none too certain that those things aren't the largest constituent of my personality. That everything I have I didn't steal from the people I love. That I even deserve my happiness. I don't want to talk about it; I just wanted to say it. Maybe I'm wrong, but at the time when Rob when I were splitting up, it seemed that we weren't in love anymore. That even though we love each other very much, maybe we never had been in love. We enjoy each other's company, and we like each other, but there wasn't passion between us and I didn't feel a raw, overwhelming amazement of and connection with his soul like I do for her, now. But lately I wonder...though it was absent for me, was it there for Rob. When I think about how I feel about her, how my love overpowers me, is larger than me, how my heart goes on wanting and longing for what is right in front of me...I wonder if that is how Rob felt about me. And am I now destined to feel the one-sided love that he felt for me, and have it destroy me as (my parents suggest) it is destroying him. Is it? Am I? Did he? Does she? There are so many of my own insecurities wrapped up in these questions that I can't even separate them from this situation. And there is nothing that I can do about any of it anyway. Nothing at all. No matter my destiny, no matter who I've hurt, no matter how much anyone else does or doesn't love me. There is no undoing what's done, no loving what isn't loved, and no escaping the future, whatever it may be. Just have to keep going. And hope for the best. 1:04 p.m. - 2008-08-22 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
||||||