Real Life

First, I really wanted to put something other than 'sad' in my current mood area. But I'll tell you, sad it is a pretty good word right now. I can't really think of any better.

I want to cry. I just can't. I'm trying, the tears are there-on the verge. I can see them in my eyes as well as feel them. Gravity is pushing them back, my eyes are blinking them back from falling into this world. Half a glass of vodka and I can almost do it-I can almost show emotion. But not quite. Cheers.

"It gets in your eyes
It's making you cry
Don't know what to do"

In the last year or so, Kate and I have had a running joke. The joke involves the song 'Send Me An Angel' by Real Life. I don't like being alone in an open area, such as an apartment. One day I was...Kate was at work and the song came on. There I am, alone, listening to this song. For those of you who don't know, one of my obsessions is i'm afraid of ghosts. And to add to that, i'm not even religious. It's just something that was instilled in me and now haunts me, so to speak. And when I got into my car to pick up Kate from work, the song was on, again. If i'm not mistaken, thats how it happened. Kate would ocassionally taunt me with it, playing it while we were getting ready, or maybe before she was getting ready to leave. The song itself freaks me out, as it should anyone if you ask me.

Today I got a call from a friend. Nikka, the one who had a brain anuerism, died yesterday. I can't express how sad this makes me, how much I want to show (or maybe to prove?) that it makes me sad, and yet I just can't. I'm not made to show emotion. I'm not made to show weakness. Yet time and again I let things go, things that I care about. I let them walk out of my life because i'm a hardass, because I don't need anyone. I complain that I'm not attractive enough, or I've gained weight, or my parents don't call me, my family doesn't keep in touch. My friends are terrible friends. I hate it here. My job? BOR-ing. I complain because I won't let anyone in.

And I know that it's natural to go through something like this when a death occurs. I know that you re-evaluate your life, etc. All I can say is that I should've done this years ago.

*Jane sits back, unzips her jacket and contemplates. She's hot, she's cold. She picks up a blanket. She takes another sip of her drink. The drink goes down smoothly and immediately relaxes her. A tear finally lets go.*

I'm sad because it's taken me 25 years and counting to figure out who I am. And Nikka, she will never get the chance to figure out who she was. And I wonder if she knew that. I wonder if she was thinking that, taking everything back while laying in that hospital bed. We're all given certain opportunites, and we blow through them like they're only one of a million. Yet, at any time it may be our last. And most of all, I'm sad because everything i've come to realize still will not provoke change in me.

Often I wonder why some people are motivated and some are not. I wonder if it has to do with upbringing. And the more I force myself to be passionate about things the more I understand myself and realize that i'm just not a passionate person. I'm hoping that one day I will find someone who is okay with that.

I'm sweating and i'm cold and i'm looking at my eyes and they're green and i'm crying and i'm thinking:

-I'm cold, i'm cold, i'm cold.

In closing, I want to say that despite everything, I am okay. I will ALWAYS be okay. I can pull through anything and I will always be okay. Thank you to my friends. And I am sure this is all over the place, my writing I mean, but we all know that's how Real Life is.