Pretty much how it all describes myself right now, as I continue to struggle on with thoughts of her in my mind. I just have such a hard time with it. I really needed a face to face declaration of us being broken up, not this cruelty that she inflicted on me. Intentional or not.
She should've known better than to do that to someone. And to ignore their texts and phone calls afterwards. And then to get upset when I try to see her in person, And then upset again, because I left a note saying I wanted to speak with her, at her home.
I.. can't do the Christmas gift..
I won't send it to her. She doesn't deserve to see me shred my last ounce of dignity, hoping for the faint possibility of us getting back together.
The faint possibility, is all I can hold onto right now. The most unlikeliest chance of her somehow having a change of heart, and contacting me instead.
And this faint possibility, is based on the assumption that she read my entire email and whether she listened to the cd I made for her.
That's it. My odds of succeeding and winning her back, can only depend on her contacting me. Right? I've made my intentions and feelings known to her already, if she decided not to read my email or if she blocked my thanksgiving text; I should still not press ahead, hoping to score on that low percentage of her having done those things.
I can't make the next move.
No matter how much I want to.
She's so close that I can touch her, and my heart is telling me to keep itself still, so that it won't flutter itself to oblivion, having to feel how real my imagination can make to pretend her being with me. I revel in those moments sometimes. These fake scenarios. And I usually feel ashamed after entertaining those images. I can't quite explain why that is, other than some form of guilt being tended towards. That the wounds I'm feeling deep in my soul, can be given temporary healing by my brief elevation of her spirit.
Because that is the part of her that I love the most.
She has a really good heart.
And we were a fantastic match together, even if she didn't think so at the end. For whatever reasons known only to her, that she is refusing or is unable to share with me.
But, I do have to remind myself that I have almost no chance of winning her back if I am the one to make the next move. To mail her a package, with a letter, or whatever.
Whatever dumb idea I come up with, I can't follow through on. I can't make the next move, even though I feel like I have to do something. Its been so long since I seen her last. She's already a goddess in my heart that will live on for the rest of my days. And that is precisely why this is so hard to deal with.
I have met the most beautiful girl in the world, and for a short while, it was the greatest time of my life to have experienced the gifts she shared with me, both in material and emotional forms.
It bothers me that I think so deeply sometimes. Most people don't, I don't think, have that sort of urge to become as deeply introspective as I have. There's no value in trying to make logical sense, out of an illogical world. You simply play with the cards you're dealt, and that's that. What good is having a deep fixation over limitations beyond your means to control or overcome? Why not concede defeat, or a temporary surrender, while you push your life forward, being the best person you can be? In spite of your inadequacies?
I think we all have it in ourselves to be good people, and good people are going to take losses like this; with an honor and respect shown towards the person whom they feel abused by. We acknowledge the vulnerability that is exposed of us, and we strive towards fixing and designing our life to be as happy as it can be, both for ourselves and our families.
And in my case, a man without a family. The single guy with no one to be responsible for.
The "lucky bastard" that most married men talk about in whispers and oftentimes, open admiration. I don't feel lucky at all to be single with no dependents. I feel quite useless, to be honest, and had I die tomorrow, the world will move on that much more easily, than if I had left behind many who depended on me.
And that would a blessing to the world, to spare the sadness of death upon others. As my father's passing has caused onto me.
Being broken up with, by such a sweet and beautiful person, was the final knife in the heart.
Do I gasp my last breaths to Gina? Sending her a package with a letter and sounding like a lunatic to which she will most definitely not ever want to be with me again? No, I do not want that to happen. That is the worst and most likeliest outcome to have. So, I won't risk it.
No, all I can do is hope for a miracle. As cliche a word as it is, and as naive of a connotation it has; I am boldly hanging onto it. In both good and bad times. Although to be honest, the bad times that has begun from when I first returned to work a few months ago, seem to be persisting a lot longer than the good times I had in the two months after being broken up with.
So, these are dark times right now. Not suicidal ones. Just gloomy and drizzling with sadness.
But what am I supposed to do about it? Pretend I'm not sad? Pretend to forget about her?
I can't delete her photos, I won't erase history.
Nor can I delete our texts. I saved them onto a couple USB sticks.
So, I've ensured her survival in the story of myself that someone may someday be reading.
And my life is far from over yet. I still have time. Even if I'm pushing 40.
Because of people like this.
Yes, that is a married couple. Yes, he was in his 50s and she was in her early 20s. And yes, she's pretty damn hot and he's not that wealthy.
At least I don't think he is. He's a practitioner of "magick", which immediately invokes association with pentagrams, witches, eye of Newt and a batshit bananas (to outsiders, anyways) mental and moral framework. It's not respected to be someone who believes in the occult, to such a committed level.
I sort of agree with that, but at the same time, I see the value in what these "magick" Baphomet loving Crowley-worshipping buffoons often preach; but I also see the evil and hypocrisy that sours much of traditional occult wisdom as it is known today. There are very few texts around that point to a time in history, where there was something thought of as magic, and that fiercely profound and inventive thinkers, all had the interest in alchemy or the study of occultism. Hermes Trismegistus and portions of the Bhagavad Gita, the Gnostic Gospels as well as some of the Native American religion are all that's really left, as far as books are concerned. For the most part, other religions of value had not properly documented their history as throughly as they should have. Such as the Australian Aboriginals.
Anyways, I came across that picture randomly of these two magicians and it smacked me in the face. I was more struck by that dark raven-haired beauty and then amused, by the expression on the man's face. His restrained, but joyous expression. It was the look of a man who is justified by ideology. That his thoughts and character, were of a value enough that "destiny" or "God" rewarded him with such an attractive mate, so late in his age. Was he lucky? Or wise? Or maybe, he always had girlfriends more than 30 years his junior, due to some information we don't know; but I'm pretty sure a girl like that is attracted to power of some kind. And this man appeared to possess a living demonstration of it. An extremely curious feat :)
And now, I'm contemplating the usefulness of immersing myself into this field. Magick, is pretty much a type of technology designed to bring one closer to God, isn't it? Some drugs may do this, as well, even if the revelations are derived from drug-induced sources, it still brings you closer to a somewhat abstract understanding of what it is you are dealing with.
The idea of whether or not there is a great creator in all this. A loving, benevolent and kind one; then you might be needing an altered state of mind, in order to really know the answer to this question. Some people don't have the time or patience these days, and I don't blame them. But I do have time, right now and I could have patience, if I relax myself into the idea of having it.
I'll consider this magick thing, even though I already have studied it in the past and have used some of it to great effect. I'm going to ponder the ideas I've read about for years, and see whether or not it really is quackery. I already know that Crowley falls into this category, as well as certain others. I also know when I see truth, such as in Manly P. Hall or Bob Frissell. Or even in David Icke, as he discussed the idea of us all being in a holographic reality. A fairly new speculation at the time, before it was taken more seriously later, and rebranded as "simulation theory" instead.
Yep. Back to to trying to justify faith, without having to martyr myself to do it with.
To do nothing, is probably better than something
Waiting For The Miracle
Baby, I've been waiting,
I've been waiting night and day.
I didn't see the time,
I waited half my life away.
There were lots of invitations
and I know you sent me some,
but I was waiting
for the miracle, for the miracle to come.
I know you really loved me.
but, you see, my hands were tied.
I know it must have hurt you,
it must have hurt your pride
to have to stand beneath my window
with your bugle and your drum,
and me I'm up there waiting
for the miracle, for the miracle to come.
Ah I don't believe you'd like it,
You wouldn't like it here.
There ain't no entertainment
and the judgements are severe.
The Maestro says it's Mozart
but it sounds like bubble gum
when you're waiting
for the miracle, for the miracle to come.
Waiting for the miracle
There's nothing left to do.
I haven't been this happy
since the end of World War II.
Nothing left to do
when you know that you've been taken.
Nothing left to do
when you're begging for a crumb
Nothing left to do
when you've got to go on waiting
waiting for the miracle to come.
I dreamed about you, baby.
It was just the other night.
Most of you was naked
Ah but some of you was light.
The sands of time were falling
from your fingers and your thumb,
and you were waiting
for the miracle, for the miracle to come
Ah baby, let's get married,
we've been alone too long.
Let's be alone together.
Let's see
I've been waiting night and day.
I didn't see the time,
I waited half my life away.
There were lots of invitations
and I know you sent me some,
but I was waiting
for the miracle, for the miracle to come.
I know you really loved me.
but, you see, my hands were tied.
I know it must have hurt you,
it must have hurt your pride
to have to stand beneath my window
with your bugle and your drum,
and me I'm up there waiting
for the miracle, for the miracle to come.
Ah I don't believe you'd like it,
You wouldn't like it here.
There ain't no entertainment
and the judgements are severe.
The Maestro says it's Mozart
but it sounds like bubble gum
when you're waiting
for the miracle, for the miracle to come.
Waiting for the miracle
There's nothing left to do.
I haven't been this happy
since the end of World War II.
Nothing left to do
when you know that you've been taken.
Nothing left to do
when you're begging for a crumb
Nothing left to do
when you've got to go on waiting
waiting for the miracle to come.
I dreamed about you, baby.
It was just the other night.
Most of you was naked
Ah but some of you was light.
The sands of time were falling
from your fingers and your thumb,
and you were waiting
for the miracle, for the miracle to come
Ah baby, let's get married,
we've been alone too long.
Let's be alone together.
Let's see
Leonard Cohen
September 21st, 1934 - November 7th, 2016
May you and your famous blue raincoat, have found peace.
