Potential is Beautiful

I know people don't believe me when I say that I don't mind staying in the so-called dreaded friend zone, but I really don't. After all, I've been in this same exact position for the past two years (with the exception of one sham of an ex-relationship) so why should this time be any different? I can't say with certainty that I do indeed belong to the Friend Zone, but I'd rather not find out. I'll just assume. Makes it easier.

This feared area may seem like the end of the world, but to me, it's this vast plain of unrealized possibilities. The could-have-beens, the what-ifs, the should-have-beens, the if-onlys. An oasis for my imagination. I may never experience The Reality, but I can always wrap myself in conjured images and hypothetical situations--if they're already so vivid inside my head then do I truly need a tangible version too? Daydreams are enough for me.

What happens if you do like me? What happens if we start dating halfway through the school year? What happens if you aren't the person I've been hoping for? I'd be even more disappointed and heartbroken than had I simply stayed inside my dreamland. I can't stand to have my expectations unmet. Believe me, things are better off this way. If you actually are an insensitive, emotionally unavailable person, then at least I'll never know this because I'll be too busy playing pretend games. My mind is so much sweeter than what I have to face (and accept) outside my head.

Go ahead and call me pathetic. That's right; I'm an escapist. I don't want you unless you're perfect, and this is why I will always be in the friend zone. The Reality of being with you isn't worth if you fall short of what I expect of you. I'm terrified of being hurt too. Once was more than enough. So laugh at me. I don't mind.

Today My Dad Turns 50

It’s always difficult to exactly define our relationship. The best way to sum it up cannot be explained in words, and neither is it so easy to see. You would have to catch the both of us unaware and candid in our natural states: I, surreptitiously sneaking a foot across the white-painted doorway of my room, and he—worn, tired, and hungry—just entering the house with his glasses slowly slipping down his head. And even then, the moment might be over so quickly that your human eyes would not be able to catch it; that by the time you blink to adjust to a more focused scene, time has resumed its normal operations, and I would be quietly reading in my room while he would have long disappeared into his own office. Sure enough, you would hear the report on CNN from the downstairs television not five minutes later.

Everyone is always fast asleep by then. The lights are always turned off, and the only bright source is my glowing computer screen. I always hear the soft little click of the door being turned before I do anything else. Quickly, I switch the screen off, grab my phone, and try to close my bedroom door before the garage door opens, letting him in. Sometimes I manage to get away without a word, sometimes not.

“Esa?”

Today he has caught me, and the elusive scene must take place. This isn’t new. I look over the wooden railing, down to his uplifted face where I can plainly see the weariness of seventy-plus hour workweeks and sleepless nights of constant worry, of caring for a family and paying the bills. But I also see his temper that simmered—boiled—after each argument, each lecture, each exchange passed between us; my hot, angry tears that inevitably appeared afterward; and the tentative returns to our late night, almost run-ins with each other.

Maybe I can say something different to him tonight, make my “goodnight” mean a bit more. He is still standing there looking at me. Perhaps he too, expects a little more from me this time. Or maybe he is so lost in thought, in his work, that I’ve again become some piece of decorative furniture in his house. I cannot tell what he’s thinking from here. And I should say something different tonight, if only to catch him off guard.

“Hi, Dad.”

And yet, in the end, I can’t. Something always holds me back. The usual response comes out of my mouth, and he stares at me for a second more before nodding and walking away, grunting slightly as he shuts the office door closed. Sighing, I eventually retreat to my room and attempt to sleep, the same image from tonight—every night, every night—burned into my mind: the hurt, the disappointment, and (yes, of course) the love etched on his face as he turned away from me. I pull the covers over my head. I’ll tell him later. There’s too much to say in that one little moment anyway. How do I tell someone how much I love him? Or how sad he can make me feel at times?

Once again, the precise essence of our relationship has eluded me, and I close my eyes and promise myself that I will definitely tell him someday, if not tomorrow night when I try again.

So Spot On I Don't Even Know What to Say Here

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Oops I Did It Again

So this summer I made a pledge not to engage in any hanky-panky activity for the fall semester of sophomore year in Middlebury College.

This Saturday night I met this guy from University of Vermont at 11:30pm and played a bit of tonsil hockey with him by around 3:00am I was a tease, of course because I always have second doubts whenever I bring someone back to my room, and then I wind up not doing anything seriously sexy. So they leave early. Which happened this time too.

I need to buy another jar so I can put my self-respect in there.

I think I should bitchslap myself because I'm apparently still under the impression that I can be that casual hook-up weekend girl when I haven't even lost my virginity yet. Until that time comes, I'm going to be a wanna-be (and a very bad one at that. complete poseur.) I suppose I'm just lonely, which kinda sucks because I don't have enough time in my daily schedule to be in a relationship.

Guess I'm stuck.

You Are Untouchable

I know you didn't notice what I was doing when your elbow was perched on the back of my chair as you chatted with a friend so I rest assured that my words will be safely undiscovered here. You suspect nothing. You expect nothing. You know nothing. And I am perfectly fine with that.

I kept my eyes soft and unfocused so no one could see that I was carefully tracing the outline of your sleeve that made a sharp "v" down the side of your torso, gently inclining into the long expanse of one pants leg--dark jean, by the way. I inhaled. You didn't have much of a scent: traces of deodorant, soap, and perhaps a hint of cigarette smoke. Not exactly a seductive, compelling aroma.

Meanwhile, I processed this assessment in all of two seconds, and just as quickly you glided away from my line of vision, off to charm someone else with your unaffected grace and nonchalant confidence. Combined with your private, cat-like smile, I'm surprised admirers aren't throwing themselves at your glorious feet, fawning and swooning all the while. Do I sound bitter? My apologies.

You belong to no one and to everyone. And yet, not anyone can simply have you. Sweet words slip out easily from your poet lips as the walled defenses shielding your true self rise ever higher and harden even more. I wonder if you have any time to care for someone special when you go around dispensing your almost-love to people who all want to be your one and only. But no--you're far too selfless and giving to even consider monogamy, aren't you? You minstrel. You troubadour.

For the most part I am content to quietly watch you from afar, my chin propped up on my hands, but sometimes I wish--just once--it is me you are turning towards for a chat as your elbow sits on the back of someone else's chair.

Taking Care of Business - BTO

Organizations:

1. Women Of Color (WOC)

2. African American Alliance (AAA)

3. Blackbird (literary magazine)

4. The Crampus (anti-school newspaper)

5. STILL SEEKING EMPLOYMENT HIRE ME PLZ >______>

Uh, I'm kinda busy O_o

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Hanh?

Pushing and Pulling
September 11 - 13

Drop your obligations and inhibitions on Friday when the friendly Gemini Moon dances through a delicious opposition of beauteous Venus and generous Jupiter. It's time to chat online and offline, to party and to play. It's all about making connections and sharing the pleasure of one another's company.

Saturday's mood is darker with lunar aspects to heavy Saturn and Pluto, and shockwaves from restless Uranus that frequently find one person trying to pull away while the other one holds on tightly. The Moon's shift into self-protective Cancer on Saturday afternoon takes you down a deep hole of feeling. Friday's flirtations are far behind, like rapidly digested sugars of immediate gratification. Now you have to face your family and the past. The good news is that chatty Mercury's intense 90-degree square to the Moon forces emotions to the surface, giving you a chance to talk about your feelings and even adding a little logic to lessen the drama. Sometimes, though, it's easier to use your thoughts to flee your feelings, and vice versa. Being present with both head and heart is the goal. You need to be bubbling with a healthy balance of brain and body and can't do it with an incompatible or unwilling person. Work it out on your own if you're not getting the kind of help you need from the outside.

Sophomore Year = Suffer More Year

Class Schedule:

1. Victoria's Secrets (English Literature XD), Mon Wed & Fri, 9:05am-9:55am

2. Intro to Macroeconomics O_O, Mon & Wed, 2:50pm-4:05pm

3. Beginning Acting, Tues & Thurs, 1:30pm-2:45pm

4. Advanced Fiction, Tues, 7:25pm-10:25pm

~~~~~~~

Saturday: Blackbird meeting (1 hour) & Club-Club meeting (2 hours)

Sunday: AAA meeting (1 hour) & WOC meeting (1 hour)

Oh yeah, and a job.

SO...I'm going to loathe this semester.

Re-do!

In 9 hours I will be in another plane flying back to Middlebury College, where I will then attempt to redeem myself for the Epic Academic Fuck-Up of spring semester 2009. Wish me luck, and Godspeed.