Sunday, November 20, 2011

That Night

My life is kind of in two segments now.

Before Cruise, and after cruise.

That last night passed in a blur but I didn't want it to, obviously.

I waited all night in that club, laying on a couch, staring blankly at a wall, wondering what was up ahead, to become. People asked me what was up, where you were, the usual. Then I got a call that I had to go back to my room to finish packing.

So I half-heartedly stuffed all my crap into my bag. It was the most heartwrenching thing I think I've ever had to do, because zipping up that suitcase was like zipping up a week full of incredible that would be padlocked, never to be opened, or relived, again.

I trudged back to the elevator. I had blisters in my toes from flipflops, so instead I was wearing the sparkly shoes. All my good clothes were gone, so I wore sweats, and I felt disgusting. I was so red, I could see how red my nose and cheeks were below my eyes. I hurt from the unfamiliar bed I had lied on for the past week. And I hurt from what I was going to have to let go of.

Up the fifteen floors, the elevator opened. The air was getting cooler as we approached the United States. I trudged back to the club. What if you weren't there. What if I would never see you again.

You were. You said I looked hot in my sweats. Even though I know I didn't.

We walked out of the club into a huge, freezing wind tunnel. We went up the deck and huddled behind a stack of beach chairs, making out. You didn't noticed, but I felt like crying. I almost did. It took all of me that night to not collapse in your arms.

We snuck across to the other deck and huddled together, you blocking the wind, both of us pressed against the glass. It was no use. The cold was seeping into our bones, both of us shivering. So we went to get food and found two other kids from the club. Two British, two Australian. We sat there eating heaps of food and ice cream and laughing and asking crazy questions about each other's countries. "How big is a stone? Don't they come in all shapes and sizes?" "So do you ride a kangaroo to school every day?" Etc. Etc.

We all parted. You and I went back to the elevator. It was there in your arms the tears finally forced their way out, racing themselves down my cheeks.

"Are you crying?"
I shook my head. But you knew. You know me too well

I pulled myself together and put on a brave face for you.

We roamed the halls, cracking jokes, you speaking to me in german, me being confused. All the doors marked "Do Not Disturb" were people "doing the dirty." They were loading up luggage and it was highly depressing. Teenage Dream came on and you stopped and tried to dance with me but I shot you down, certainly blushing, because I can't dance. I would never hear that song again without thinking of you. Just like I would never be able to hear "Raise Your Glass" Without remembering Jon elbowing me hard in the face on accident. Just like I would think of you every time I got a piece of mail from NCL, mentally pointing out the places some of the best memories were made in the picture of the EPIC. Just like I would never be able to put on my Blue Man Group shirt without being reminded of you.

I stalled going back to my room, leading us to floors that weren't mine. Finally we made it to the twelfth floor. I loathed that little arrow that pointed to my room, to our final moment together more than I've ever loathed anything.

We stopped. Embraced. "You don't know how much I'm going to miss you"

You don't know how much that statement was false.

I gave you the note. Hugged you again. Kissed you one last time. Went into my room, and collapsed on my bed in a heap of tear-stained cheeks. I can't remember a time I've cried louder. I couldn't breathe.

I was hollow. Empty. Nothing anybody could tell me would help. I just needed you. There. With me.


I miss you. So much. I DO know how much you miss me because I MUST miss you just as much. You don't understand how much you changed me. You made me feel beautiful, special, like a girl out of a movie or a fairytale, because boys like you only happen to girls in fairytales. And yet you DID happen to me.


I miss you.

Love forever
GirlInBlue
Lessthanthree

Friday, November 18, 2011

But really though...

What if the one who got away came back?

What if right as you began to pride in yourself over accomplishing the impossible (getting over someone) they come right back into your life and you're head over heels again.

On the one hand, this situation is astronomically exciting. You can finally think of all the memories without hurting, and actually see their face without that terrible ache in your chest. Its almost new, yet so little has changed, yet so much at the same time.

Its all very emotionally exhausting.

And I would much rather it be this way, without the awkwardness, without the constant questioning of myself. Without the "What'd I do wrong?"s and "Why me?"s and of course without the "At one point I was good enough and now I am not"

Questions have been answered.

So why is it still I haven't a clue what to do with myself?

And Why is it when the inspiration had seemingly come back, I still have this huge whole in my brain where all the words used to pour from. Even now, sitting at my keyboard, I struggle, racking my brains for every word, every thought, wringing myself dry of the words that present themselves one letter at a time....

I guess I'm confused. But not really. I know what I want, But I don't.

How can I abandoned the one who not only picked up my broken pieces and make me whole, made me laugh again, made me see in color and light and see all the beauty again after my world came crashing down around me, but also the one who gave me memories I will hold for a lifetime. I love him dearly, and I cannot stop that, especially for one who could have had all of my love in the first place. You cannot replace the ups and downs, everything two people could've gone through.

What it all comes down to I guess is that its just another case of Heart v. Mind. Your heart wants something, but you know in your mind it is stupid.

Maybe I'll just live with 45025 cats when I get old. Yup.
I DONT NEED NO MAN

Love always.
GirlInBlue
lessthanthree

Bananas

Bananas