brightwildeyes
-
May
01 2012 - Text
Discussing “old heartbreaks” with “new guys”
It is just weird because they [your new guy friends/acquaintances] pay so much attention and seem to understand all the crap people go through in their efforts.
I’m trying to write out most of my play, and ever since talking to the teacher about how weak I am when my heart is broken… how sick I will get over it… instead of writing my monologues I kept recalling lines from scenes of reality.
“I’m trying [to learn] to love you” -he, who is going to be 18 next year, texted me that, before all the hate brewed up in both of us a long time ago.
That is a line, I don’t forget, from my life.
I know everyone always goes on about, that guy sucks get a new one, or that guy’s ugly, etc etc. I just don’t get how everyone else seems to not hurt as much. Maybe it’s because of being so close, to hold someone high in your heart as a best friend. The person you talk to at the end of the day the longest. More than your girlfriends. Maybe it’s how you ignored each other on purpose when you met, because it was weird.
Maybe it was that now, that ignoring on purpose is a different kind of ignoring. A “please let me forget your existence” ignoring.
I picture erasing someone’s name off of my heart and all that happens to the graphite is it smudges so you never get it completely off.
But when I raise my hand in class, and tell the teacher that a guy made me cry so bad that I got in the hospital for depression… multipletimes… I feel very stupid. Like everyone perceives me as dumb, being “such a girl”. Here are all these other people in the room, fessing up that they weren’t there when their mom died, or that they didn’t get to be as good a father as they should have… and all I have to say is I was so into guys, that I triggered morebipolar episodes,which made meabsent too much, and causing me totransfer schools.
Emotions can be disabling. They can sweep you away like the tidal waves did to Iligan and Cagayan de Oro.
And worse yet, myconditionfollowed me intocollege, and I dropped out of two semesters from too much absences from more episodes and missing school [half of these episodes because of family, the other half because of love life].
Maybe it was trying to erase all those sparkly moments I treasured… the ones that sweetened life the way chocolate compliments strawberries. Maybe that was all.
Maybe it was remembering so much dialogue from reality, even though I had no memory of the lines for Anne Frank sophomore year, when I was cast as her mom.
All I know is that in that room, I sat and felt people staring or trying not to stare, as I reveal my regret. Letting my emotions, my feelings for people, everything, screw me over in the end. Growing as a playwright and overall, into the woman I will be one day. The leader I am supposed to become. The writer, the speaker, all of these talents someday being utilized for something big. And the experiences. These stories no one else sees.
They stay with me but don’t die, constantly brought up over and over so that other people will not have to go through something like this.
But like my highschool French teacher once described me, I am “a great example of perseverance”. I will get through all of it because my stairway to success and happiness is a very rough road.
