Fight For Love
Something is wrong with me. Yes, I've realised it over and over again, I know. Full moons are yet again pulling at the balances of my life (Family, Friends, Work, Health, Love). I'm sitting on the couch watching Foxtel in our, now shit-hot, living room. Paulina and Gerard have left to get some fresh air after a hectic weekend and my sister is dwelling upstairs in her amounting boy troubles.
I feel like I'm coming down. I fled the country in hope of change, running away to the Philippines for 10 days in search of relief from what my life had become. I came back through Sydney, seeing some faces I hadn't seen in years, faces I see often, and faces I wish I'd see everyday. I returned to Melbourne secretly and spontaneously, after being overwhelmed by how much I missed everyone.
Paulina hosted what was to be a 'welcome back' dinner for me on Friday night, which swelled to become a house party of some 25 hot faces. Debaucherous amounts of gyrating, endless drinking, mindless chatter and a living room which at one point, became a dark club with *everyone* dancing to the likes of Mariah Carey and The Pussycat Dolls.
Saturday was spent recovering from the 5am finish. My restlessness got the better of me, and I called on trusty James to have a drink. We ended up at the Exchange, pining for a boogie to Rihanna's 'Umbrella'. We heard it and we were satisfied. I met up with Kevin and his gang when James and I decided to call it a night, and ended up getting home at around 3am.
And so now I sit here, with a highly unwanted scheduled return to work this coming week, feeling a bit empty. Like I'm burning out. My father once sat me down back when I was promoted to 2IC at AG, when I was easily excitable from the prospect of success, and he told me his concern about my personality. He shocked me when he commented on how as a young boy in the play ground, I'd climb as high as a I can, as fast as I can without taking a breath to see how far I'd already climbed. I never thought my Dad knew me, or took notice of me, in that way. He was worried I would burn out. I understood but I didn't listen. And now work is draining my life in ways I never thought it could. And my passion is fading.
When I was young, I was naive in thinking I would conquer the world. I was unbeatable and everything went my way. Now, I embrace taking responsibility, I know actions result in consequence, and being young and relatively naive still, I'm at a point where I have to work out exactly what actions I need to execute to result in consequences that will benefit my life, who I am, and who I want to be.
I've spoken a lot lately about feeling emotionally inactive. And it's true. Never before have I found it so difficult to open up and let someone in. I used to love so easily. I used to devote myself so much more. But now, I don't know? I ask myself, 'Do I just have different priorities? Is it the past that makes me hesitant to allow emotional vulnerability?' It's really frustrating to have someone in front of you who is brilliant. Loving. Smart. Sexy. And all you can feel is blank. Life just doesn't stimulate me the way it used to. Work in progress.
And for the record, I never thought you'd call me your ex. Being ex's implies that we were boyfriends, and I never thought we were because nothing was ever defined. If we had been, things would have been very different, perhaps for the better, and I wouldn't have this feeling in my chest of being left without a chance to close what has now been referred to as a full-fledged relationship. It's so easy to define what we were now that it's past. But in the midst of everything, we were confused as fuck. You've got 4 years. Think hard.
Ahh. Blogging. I feel much better now.
I feel like I'm coming down. I fled the country in hope of change, running away to the Philippines for 10 days in search of relief from what my life had become. I came back through Sydney, seeing some faces I hadn't seen in years, faces I see often, and faces I wish I'd see everyday. I returned to Melbourne secretly and spontaneously, after being overwhelmed by how much I missed everyone.
Paulina hosted what was to be a 'welcome back' dinner for me on Friday night, which swelled to become a house party of some 25 hot faces. Debaucherous amounts of gyrating, endless drinking, mindless chatter and a living room which at one point, became a dark club with *everyone* dancing to the likes of Mariah Carey and The Pussycat Dolls.
Saturday was spent recovering from the 5am finish. My restlessness got the better of me, and I called on trusty James to have a drink. We ended up at the Exchange, pining for a boogie to Rihanna's 'Umbrella'. We heard it and we were satisfied. I met up with Kevin and his gang when James and I decided to call it a night, and ended up getting home at around 3am.
And so now I sit here, with a highly unwanted scheduled return to work this coming week, feeling a bit empty. Like I'm burning out. My father once sat me down back when I was promoted to 2IC at AG, when I was easily excitable from the prospect of success, and he told me his concern about my personality. He shocked me when he commented on how as a young boy in the play ground, I'd climb as high as a I can, as fast as I can without taking a breath to see how far I'd already climbed. I never thought my Dad knew me, or took notice of me, in that way. He was worried I would burn out. I understood but I didn't listen. And now work is draining my life in ways I never thought it could. And my passion is fading.
When I was young, I was naive in thinking I would conquer the world. I was unbeatable and everything went my way. Now, I embrace taking responsibility, I know actions result in consequence, and being young and relatively naive still, I'm at a point where I have to work out exactly what actions I need to execute to result in consequences that will benefit my life, who I am, and who I want to be.
I've spoken a lot lately about feeling emotionally inactive. And it's true. Never before have I found it so difficult to open up and let someone in. I used to love so easily. I used to devote myself so much more. But now, I don't know? I ask myself, 'Do I just have different priorities? Is it the past that makes me hesitant to allow emotional vulnerability?' It's really frustrating to have someone in front of you who is brilliant. Loving. Smart. Sexy. And all you can feel is blank. Life just doesn't stimulate me the way it used to. Work in progress.
And for the record, I never thought you'd call me your ex. Being ex's implies that we were boyfriends, and I never thought we were because nothing was ever defined. If we had been, things would have been very different, perhaps for the better, and I wouldn't have this feeling in my chest of being left without a chance to close what has now been referred to as a full-fledged relationship. It's so easy to define what we were now that it's past. But in the midst of everything, we were confused as fuck. You've got 4 years. Think hard.
Ahh. Blogging. I feel much better now.
posted by Christopher at 5:44 PM
1 Comments:
forcing emotions for someone is never a good thing. denying yourself of something that could be beautiful is never a good thing either.
suppose you have to figure out where you stand in terms of what you want out of love right now. but if there's one thing i can tell you its this - sometimes its easier to just go with the flow and stop having all these high expectations of yourself. for sometimes, you'll feel, that they will never be filled.
you are your worst critic, and you know this. why are you putting so much pressure on every aspect of your life to be perfect? when nothing ever is, completely, across every level.
when you know in the back of your head you have it good. and the problems that are there are fixable. its just a matter of what you're going to do. and how. and when.
think Georgio the taxi driver. whats happened before is the past. what are you gonna do tomorrow?
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