anony-nobody - Tumblr blog

[anony-nobody]

1.11

It was a hard day, fighting the desire to text her. No less than twenty times I opened my phone to ask her how her day was going before I remembered she wasn’t there for me to talk to anymore. It’s hard. Hard is putting it lightly. It is excruciating. She was my best friend and confidant for so many years. Who am I kidding, she still is. She is moving on and I’m still wanting to text her every hour.

I managed to unfriend her on console. It was a big step for me. The pain of seeing her name pop up each time she logged on was agony and made it harder to keep my distance. I’ll continue to try and give her space and in the meantime work through my feeling here.

[anony-nobody]

1.10

What does it mean to find your soul mate? How do you know you’ve found yours? Two questions, two answers, and only thousands of years of wisdom to speak on the subject.

Let’s just start with the first question because I’ve been thinking about the same thing for about two years now. The idea of a soul mate used to be a common topic and a more common basis of belief. These days with so many competing theories of what love actually is paired alongside psych studies and logical analysis the idea has fallen a bit by the wayside, save romantic comedies and the like. It’s my opinion having read many of these studies and researching the scientists behind them, it’s hard to discount the fact that they’re all single. Mildly amusing fact honestly. I couldn’t help chuckling to myself as I read doctor after doctor that published this report and that hypothesis about love and all were single. A wee bit off topic. By the by, some believe that the more educated an individual is, the less likely they are to believe in soul mates. I’d have to say the same about religion but the statistics about that also don’t really stand up. Moreover, the psychologists that drum up these articles are colleagues to the same psychologists that say the mind makes it real. It’s a weird turmoil there. Even if the idea of soul mates is a fallacy, the very idea that anyone believes in it makes it a fact to some degree, and there makes a true that you may have a soul mate out there. Additionally, what says that the soul mate is predetermined, it may be and should be that relationships continue to grow and change and blossom into a state of soul mates. That’s my belief anyways. I also believe that humans do have a sense for when their world, psyche, and person changes. Much like the documented anomaly that people have when they’re in the presence of a psychopath or the feeling that you're being watched. In this way people may know when they meet a singular person that could become their ‘soul mate.’ Finding yours is a near life changing experience. In the first few weeks, it feels like your world is entirely disrupted. Like you’re fully engulfed in change. Your skin pulls tight and tingles in much the same way as taking a hot shower after coming in from the snow. This is not to say you think about them all the time or need to be with them every second of every day. It’s a feeling deep in your mind and body that tells you, ‘this person is special to you, take care of them, respect them, learn from them.’ The world is brighter when they’re around. You can talk about nothing for hours and smile the entire time. **tangent** I’ll be honest here. I carry a lot of guilt for the way I am. I would go to sleep nearly every night regretting that I didn’t smile more with her. I’m not very good with emotions. It takes a lot of work, internally, to say and do simple things. I’d lay in bed at night beside her and just quietly talk to her about all the things I was too much of a coward to say. Sure we’d talk about a lot of things and have fun doing so. I only wished I had said everything I meant to say, in the way I wanted to say it. You ever want to say something important but when you open your mouth it comes out as jumbled garbage? Yeah, that’s my life. **end tangent**

Next entry I’ll speak about the second question. This first one took a bit longer than I thought and there’s still so much to say about it.

[anony-nobody]

1.09

So what did that bit of metal and gems mean? We can start with the age old meaning of the ring when given to a loved one. The exchange of rings between loved ones can be traced back to ancient Egypt. Much like today the circular nature of the ring represented eternity. An eternal bond between the two lovers. A bond not easily broken and able to withstand large amounts or duress without failing. Ancient Egyptians also appeared to be the first to place the rings on their left ring finger. Generally because they believed it contained a connection (vein or artery) directly to the heart. The first association with a marital status in the western context comes from a fairly common area, Ancient Greece and Rome. The ancient Greeks and Romans incorporated the exchange of rings into the marital dowry and fidelity of the spouses. Fidelity in these two eras is a bit different, perhaps, than what we think of today. I’ll pin that discussion for later if it strikes anyone’s fancy. The ring and its symbolism was then taken up by Christendom (no surprise there) and more or less developed into what we use it for today.

For me the symbol of giving the ring to a loved one follows relatively closely with these ideals (that's how indoctrination works btw). The ring was symbolic of giving myself away. A way to say, ‘much like the perpetuity of this ring, I will love you forever, unceasingly, continuously, and without hesitation.’ As I mentioned in a previous post, my idea of loyalty is an unfaltering ideal. Once began my loyalty doesn’t go amiss, doesn’t sway, and will never weaken. **tangent** I don't really believe there are many people that think this way about loyalty. Perhaps it’s the modern culture and media that have darkened my view of the world or the nihilistic view I’ve always had. Either way it seems the modern view of loyalty seems to be a thing that swings to and fro with greater ease than a politician’s view of morality. That’s to say people don’t stand by their idea of loyalty once hardships come along. It’s truly a mildly sad state in my opinion. I realize of course that a broad sweep of that topic and there are a near unlimited number of variables we would need to account for before analyzing someone loyalty to a thing, idea, or person. I may muse on the subject at a later time. **end tangent** I guess I’m old fashioned in the way I think of my respective partner. My partner is the one and only in my life. I couldn’t care less for others walking around. Thinking about it I really don’t believe Jane understood where we stood at that moment. It was clear she had all the power for a fair amount of the relationship. Not through any other method other than purposeful design. That ring meant that I had found the one person I was looking for. I wouldn’t look for anyone else from that point on, there wasn’t any need to. I found my other half (Plato) and to continue looking would only bring pointless trivialities. I’ll talk about that next time.

[anony-nobody]

1.08

The ring wasn’t much, just a slim basic looking gold ring with diamond inverses in it. It wasn’t extremely expensive either. There have certainly been more expensive rings given as a sign of engagement. As with any ring though, the power and value came from what it represented. I gave her the ring on one of my trips to visit. I told her as I slid it on her finger “this is about my promise to you” I don’t know if I ever actually explained what I meant by that. The moment was sort of interrupted by emotional tears and an even more emotion kiss and embrace. We stayed wrapped around each there for a long while. I felt hopeful. She accepted the ring. I had been holding on to that ring for such a long time, waiting for a good time to present it to her. Something inside me said then was the best time. I’m not sure why even now. She rarely took it off from that day forward. It set my mind at ease that perhaps she really did look forward to our relationship getting stronger. Of course now I think it’s pretty clear that I was incorrect. **tangent** Are insecurities actually insecurities if they turn out to be factual events? If you really value the power of the mind you might be in favor of the typical cliche of “the mind makes it real.” Regardless mine seemingly came true so it’s a question I’ve been pondering. I will set it aside for analyzing later. **end tangent** Whether I was correct or not for that moment and the time after it we were generally happy with each other. Life itself was a rough and unruly sea but together it was pretty okay, we always found a way to laugh keep moving forward. For a while, it was good.

[anony-nobody]

1.07

The whole situation started to make me wonder if the feeling that things were getting better was just a delusional dream in my own mind. Over the next portion of time I let her “I love you’s” lead me to trust that things were, in fact, on the right track to a strong(er) relationship. Life is sorta funny like that sometimes I guess. Sometimes your mind inserts a small pebble of an idea in your head, and traps you by thinking in circles about things that may or may not be there. I suppose some people may be that say that sort of thinking is simply a version of insecurity. I don’t dispute that. I do believe that everyone alive has, at least, some insecurities in their mind. The sort of thing that keeps them up at night. It’s my opinion that the more important the object is to you, the more often you think and analyze the object. More analyzing undoubtedly lands you in less-than-favorable scenarios and…… you fall down the rabbit hole into the land of insecure. I hope that train of thought was somewhat intelligible. Maybe it will resonate with someone somewhere. I’ll end this post here. The next one will continue with this subject.

[anony-nobody]

1.06

I’ll be the first to admit, I don’t have a ton going for me. I’m not especially handsome. I’m not especially smart. I’m not especially funny. I’m not especially witty, athletic, skillful, thoughtful, or empathetic. What I do have going in my favor is my loyalty. I’m loyal to a fault. I’m the type of person that you call any time of day and I'll be getting in my car and on my way to wherever you are without a thought. I keep my friend group small, I pretend, and tell people, it’s because I’m just not real social and just dislike people (which is somewhat true. The truth is mostly because I’m terrified of not being able to act on my one good attribute. Too many friends means that potentially I wouldn't be able to attend to several of them at the same time if issues arise. That’s really neither here nor there but I don’t think I’ve ever really told anyone that. So there ya go tumblr; if anyone actually reads this, which seems unlikely, person will be the first to know that fun fact! Congratulations random person lol.

Anywho, back to the thing. Loyalty being my only redeemable trait, to me it’s no small thing to submit myself to someone. When I do choose a friend they have a friend for life in me. Haven’t spoken in three years but you need help. I’m there. (Has happened twice) Perhaps I’ve rambled too far down this tangent. Jane’s makeout session was really a forceful blow against me because it’s a spit in the face of the loyalty between us. Even drunk and near comatose, I would never begin to think of doing that sort of thing. Now I know most people likely don’t think like I do. I’m a freak and that’s fine by me. Regardless of this incident, I forgave her fully, we talked about it a bit and moved on. I do try to move on if I can force myself to. Once things have happened, they can’t be undone so I try to learn from it. Store it away in the ole memory bank and keep moving forward. The situation unfortunately did sort of eat away at me though I won’t deny that.

[anony-nobody]

1.05

So, there’s plenty to be said about the six years in-between and I will eventually get to describing all of it, probably. But we’ll skip forward to the last few months. I moved back to my hometown to go back to school while she stayed in her hometown to finish her schooling as well. Upon moving back it was decided that we would give each other a little more space and I would work to improve the more rough areas of myself. We had long talks about the issues in our relationship. With a list of things to work on and plan. We, or so I thought, set out to build a better relationship. Long distance relationship was a bit difficult for a while. But we seemed to be making it work. I can say with no shadow of a doubt to be found that I really did work hard to make myself more into the person she wanted. That’s not to say we always agreed on things but we worked at speaking more openly about how we felt and accepting the feelings of each other. I thought it was going well. However, one weekend, she let me know she was going out with a friend. A person I’ve known for a while now and a person I know tends to bring out questionable decisions in GI Jane. By 1:30ish AM I figured I wouldn't hear from her that night, so I wished her a happy night and hoped she was having a fun and relaxing time and went to bed. The next morning, still no messages from her. It was well into the afternoon before she messaged me. The message was expected and cliché. She drank too much, and made out with another person, that’s as far as she went so far as she could remember. Now, I don’t really care about the semi-adultery but there’s something about the scenario that does bother me and likely is the root of my feelings about this whole scenario.

[anony-nobody]

1.04

Let’s fast forward to the first year of college where I met one of the coolest and down to earth people I have, to this day, ever had the privilege of knowing. My first hearing about her was rumors of her, sneaking into another freshman’s dorm room. At that moment I did not warrant the rumors or her, pushing it off as just another repressed teenager finally far enough away from her parents to express herself in the way she wanted. Almost wanted to congratulate her. Almost. She spent the majority of the first few weeks spending time with what I, and several others, believed was a rather unsavory guy. They’d talk for an hour or two nearly every night, usually right below my window. I’d hear their discussions if I opened my window, boring discussion by my reckoning. Each night it was mildly humorous to hear them, mostly him, lean into something slightly more than friendship. Slowly, the rest of our freshman dorm saw him for what he really was as he began to get more abusive and violent toward his roommate, a really kind guy, who honestly didn’t deserve it. Still, it wasn’t my problem, I didn’t feel any sort of connection to these people. The other girls made the occasional pass at me, but honestly I wasn’t interested in their game. Occasionally I’d talk to the girl I called GI Jane, which I nicknamed her after a hiking trip. Twice mr. unsavory questioned me as to my intentions with her. I supposed they had struck up a relationship far deeper than what I had seen, but again I didn’t care what they did. It was none of my business, much like what I did and thought as hardly any of his. Soon the regular school year started, and all of us in the dorm spent less time together and more time on our studies. I suppose the turning point with GI Jane and I came a week or two into the school year. My roommate and I sat in our room prepping for a Friday night or maybe we had just gotten back? I can’t quite recall. But my roommate and I both sat in our room, quietly chatting about some inane topic when down the hall we could hear multiple raised voices. We both fell silent, looked at each other, and listened. Not long we heard the voice of mr unsavory and GI Jane’s roommate in a heated argument. We quickly went for the door and upon stepping out into the hall we found Jane’s roommate nearly yelling back into the doorway and Unsavory seemingly yelling back. It was clear from his speech he had been drinking heavily. I knew from experience in high school, overly aggressive guy that also couldn’t seem to control their alcohol were always dangerously aggressive, and seemed to always want to fight despite the fact that they could hardly stand. We got the doorway and we could hear Unsavory yelling at GI Jane. She was curled against the wall on her bed while he continued berating her about something I wasn’t clued in on and still to this day not overtly sure as to the cause of the abuse. As we got a feel for the situation, I called sternly into the room, “unsavory, what are you doing? They told you to leave. It’s time to go” perhaps it was the more stern sound of my voice, or his voice slowly getting louder and louder but a small crowd found their way to the hallway to see what all the commotion was. After his addled and drunk brain processed that my roommate and I were telling him to leave he quickly turned on us with whatever anger he had. Just as well, it was clear from her tears and sobbing shoulders GI Jane was struggling to maintain what comprise she had left. I can’t remember his exact words at the point, so don’t quote me, but they went a little something along the lines of him accusing everyone present of making fun of him behind his back. Full disclosure, I don’t really understand what he meant by that. I had warned Jane before that he was clearly a little unstable based on how he treated his roommate and how he acted at parties. I suppose news of me saying this could have found its way to his ear, however, to say it was behind his back is mildly melodramatic. I would have said it directly to his face. At this point I repeated that he needed to walk away from the situation, and that he wasn’t wanted there anymore. My roommate also tried coaxing him out of the room. I’ve always had a knack that when I enter high stress situation a level my voice and tenor, making it seem like nothing is bothering me. It’s a strategy I had been honing for years, even before I stopped caring. Unsavory next move was as a cliché as they come, “what, are you going to remove me?” He said. It was really stupid and pretty childish. I barely stifled a chuckle, I told him that he didn’t want to fight me when he was sober, fighting me while he was drunk was probably the second bad idea he had that night. It hurt his pride and he stormed over to me like he was going to try and fight or something. You’ve all seen what I’m talking about. When the hormonal, wannabe alpha male puffs out his chest and gets way too close to the other individual. If he wasn’t so drunk I might have been a little on edge with him so close but, at least at this juncture, there was no way he could do much to me. I simply looked looked down my nose at him while I raised an eyebrow condescendingly. My roommate who was better friends with unsavory than I was, pulled him away by the shoulder, “come on, we’re all going to get in trouble.” With that the confrontation had pretty much come to an end with little more than an overzealous bluster. At that moment I very nearly walked away, my good deed for the day completed. In the room Jane still sat against the wall, her legs pulled up close to her chest, tears still on her cheeks. For nearly the last year sympathy and empathy were gone from me. Several times, while the people around me cried, I felt nothing but annoyance. At least twice the people had called me out on my stone attitude. I didn’t care, it was easier to feel nothing than get caught up in pointless emotion over an event that couldn’t very well be changed. Regardless, for the first time in a long time I was compelled to go check on her. I gently places my hand in her knee, and sat on her bed. I asked if she was alright. I remember how awkward it all felt. My internal monologue kept reminding me how little I cared about people and how little other people cared about each other. Something about her touch was really different somehow. Just placing my hand on her knee was both calming and electrifying at the same time. Certainly a feeling I had never experienced to that point. When she calmed down some I asked her if she’d be okay tonight. All three of us, Jane, her roommate, and I discussed that he could potentially come back at some point. The prospect was noticeably uncomfortable for her. I asked if it would make her feel better if I stayed the night with her. And that became the first time we slept together. Literally just slept. It’s not a euphemism. She slept the night through, cutting the circulation to my left arm. As for me, where sleep was usually plagued with visceral nightmares, that night was peaceful and restful. Soon we were spending more time together. I felt things around her I had hardly or never felt for anything.

[anony-nobody]

1.03

It’s a question I started to ponder back in high school, when I first falling into a depressed state. I don’t exactly remember how it started. Perhaps it was my home life, which by all-accounts was fine, even good sometimes, or maybe it was sneaking around and hiding my bisexuality, possibly it could be that, it was really the first time in my life that I felt completely empty. I still remember the day where it first hit me. After the last show of the school musical theatre production, a cast member and good platonic friend kissed me on the cheek as a momento and photo-op. Before we had returned to the school, the photo had already been circulated multiple times and found its way to the attention of my then-girlfriend. Who promptly accused me of being inconsiderate, among other things, and dumped me in the middle of the hall. We had been dating for several months at that point, a long time for me, but as she sat they’re fuming and waiting for me to try to defend myself, the only thing I could muster up was a monotone, “okay, sorry.” What came next was a mix of expletives and her friends calling me both a freak and a psychopath. I remember thinking about what her friends said for a long time after that. The cursing didn’t bother me, I’d played football and cursing was just part of the game but freak and psychopath, that struck a chord. It didn’t hurt my feelings, it just resonated with me. Things started making more sense, and I cared less and less. I still thought about being and freak and psychopath near daily. It bothered me that the words from immature high schoolers who clearly don’t know what the words meant got to me. I figured if I didn’t feel anything at all I wouldn’t have to feel that strange uncomfortable feeling again. I stopped engaging in activities in and out of school. Spent more time closed up in my room. I dated, sort of, but didn’t really much care about them. I always found a reason to skip on hanging out with friends. Slowly I stopped feeling any sort of way about anything. I faked smiles and tried to laugh. If only to get people to leave me alone. In truth I didn’t feel anything the majority of my senior year except loneliness, which I promptly tried to utterly suppress. The prospect of going off to college almost made me happy, so I tried to focus on that as much as could.

[anony-nobody]

1.02

I’m not sure where to go from here, the first time I’ve felt something worth feeling is with her, now it’s a pain worse than any physical thing I’ve had to endure. I don’t know how but this has to be the way it feels to find and ultimately lose your soul mate. My soul mate doesn’t feel the same about me. What’s the point of living when the knowledge that you’ve found and lost your soul mate is burned in your mind. Starts to make you wonder, ‘what is the point of life.’ A question, I’m sure, that leagues of smarter people than me have tried to answer. Perhaps it’s an answer that each individual person has to answer for themselves.

[anony-nobody]

1.01

I’ve created this as a way for me to work through things that I can’t really handle by myself. I realize it may be hard for some people to read it, for others it will irritate, for some it will only seem like a cry for attention, and some, a sad monologue of modernity. I’m not writing this for those people, I’m writing this for me; me and her; me and the small fraction of the population that will read this and feel companionship. The small fraction that is going through the same thing, the ones that need more than anything else to know that they aren’t alone in what they feel.

[anony-nobody]

What is this Blog about?

A week ago, a six year long relationship was ended. Now, they wont even speak to me as they need time to process. That’s all well and good and I mostly understand it but it leaves me short one best friend and number one confidant. This provides me an outlet to process my own feelings.