finals

that subject line reminds me of a story i read once. i think it was a story about dying, but i only read it once even though i've read all of her other stories multiple times...i can't stand stories that end with death. stories where people die and are forgotten by much less interesting people. i don't know why that should be surprising. i want for there to be something after. i have always wanted that, desperately, more than anything else, for there to just be one goddamn place other than THIS.

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i think i was going to post and say...right, something about finals. about how i never think about the heart of me these days, just live in this endless mess of tv and tennis and coffee and games and i can't even remember what day of the week it is--my calendar remembers for me, and i cross off days with due diligence, shocked by their minuscule import. terribly phrase, those last two words. blech. of course my writing is off. i haven't been WRITING lately, and what i do write is crap.

something has to give. i hope so anyway...because i can persist for terrifyingly long days on nothing, no meat, no light, no water, no air. i can feed on myself till nothing but a hand, or a toenail, or an eye remains, and have no knowledge of my disappearance.

...and there is not much remaining.

someone i love

is it really weird to keep dreaming about someone, like, once a week, for four years since you parted ways? and to NOT be romantically interested in them?

i don't know. i got the stupid university email about upcoming events, and his a capella group was on there. so i went to the webpage, pulled up his name. there was only one good picture, and he looked so so beautiful in it...just, like, the most perfect man in existence. maybe that's what he means to me, in my dreams...i don't know. it's like, i'm scared, and then he's there, and i run to him and feel really safe. only i'm getting sick of it.

he looks kind of like this guy... http://www.imdb.com/name/nm1057932/ only BETTER.

sigh. i don't know why i'm posting this. i went and tried to find a myspace or blogger page for him...nothing. hmm...the thought of opening up AIM and looking is like the thought of just dunking my whole head in a bucket of vodka. ugh. hate hate HATE HATE aim.

it's like a weird stalkerish / spurned lover thing to do. he just looked so happy and... carefree... and... i don't know. he was always the kind of guy that you knew would always be successful. i don't know why they voted ME "most likely to be successful" in our high school. really, someone like him would have been better. stable. charismatic. kind. gorgeous. humble. thoughtful.

i'm afraid i'm none of those things. maybe that's what it is. maybe he's like... the kind of person i feel like i could or should have been... nah. that just doesn't feel right. i'm not sure i've ever even imagined myself being someone like that...maybe just not lately.

i don't know. if i was straight, he's the guy i would have wanted to be with. like, forever. only...we never worked together. i was...

just...painfully awkward. socially inappropriate. incapable of telling him how much i thought of him, how much i would have wanted him to be my brother or my lover or something like that... incapable of telling him anything at all, really, so bound by my fears that i could only show i was angry, or hateful, or cold... like my tongue had been cut out. it hurts thinking about that.

i don't know. i always feel like he's someone who got away from me...someone i should have held on to. that part doesn't need any figuring out.

love...ira