Journal Entry #10: Detachment

The morning of day eighteen:

“Detachment: the action or process of detaching; separation.”

This damned word. For me, staring at it is no better than putting my head inside the mouth of a starving lion; thinking about it is no different than that sinking feeling that you get when you imagine every person that you love being torn out of your life; and experiencing it, well that’s no better than having your heart ripped out by some broad or asshole that you thought that you could trust. It’s one word that stares back up at me, and I get lost in between the lines of its black letters, curves, and spaces. My mind hits a black static wall when I imagine it and slowly and then abruptly, those horrible memories surrounding it come flowing back and I find myself hating the word more so than I did just before it had crossed my mind. So I close my eyes, clench my fists, and grit my teeth, until that knot in my heart disappears; the one that those memories come attached with. Detachment: I hate this word in every sense.

I have never understood how people so easily detach themselves from others. I really just don’t get it. I mean, in certain cases, yes it can be easy and yes it may be what is called for (Such as a bad friend for example). But if you are reading this, if you are this far into these entries, you know that this is not what I am hinting at. I have never been able to just drop someone and my feelings. I have never been able to just push them aside and neglect them. I have had this happen though, as I am sure just about everyone has. I loved someone only for them to wake up one day and decide that they no longer felt the same way. And after our conversations and my words that I used to try to change her mind, they didn’t, and she detached. I thought that we were so right. I thought that we went hand in hand; like a great white with the sea, because it is absolutely nothing without the water. I was wrong about that and I am aware of that now, but that does not change the fact that I was not aware of it then. That detachment was worse than a nightmare; this time, I did not get to wake up to find out that it was only a dream. It was there every minute, taunting me and throwing itself in my face. I felt my heart ripping into two. I sat there, and felt that seam tear down inch by inch. I felt like I was exhaling bullets, because it is nothing but a war all inside of your own body at this point.

All of this lead to my learning of what I really wanted out of a girl; what I truly considered to be “amazing,” and then that lead to you. But you detached suddenly from me in such a horrible and unexpected way, and you cannot deny that. It is not a throw in the face or a blind side that is meant to attack you or make you feel low. It is just my way of expressing the realistic truth. Don’t get me wrong, I do not mean to be anything but tact; I put my life on that; everyone deserves respect, especially the people that we say that we love. But it is also my way of expressing how I just do not understand how or why it happened. I know that you remember; that first time; that one argument where I was made to believe that I was only some sort of “thing,” used to keep you happy, when you really did not even want me around. I was used “to fill a hole.” And then suddenly, you were gone. And even though they were lies, my mind turned into a skew of questions, worry, and doubt. My appearance became a forced smile while I was screaming in my own mind every question like “how did this happen” and “why did this happen?” “Why did you leave” and “why did you use me?” “I thought that you cared” and “please don’t leave this behind.” “Where did you go” and “why in this world won’t you just talk with me?” Trying to focus myself on track by saying “I don’t deserve this, fuck you for what you did,” but at the same time I knew that this couldn’t be you, because you were everything that I had hoped for; everything that was the opposite of those words. There was no closure. There were no helping words. There was no compassion. I couldn’t even find a hint of care. And it worked my mind into such a craze because I knew that something so harsh just could not come out of you, but why did it? And why did it come in my direction? The next set of questions came to mind, and it mainly consisted of “how could you” and “how could you so easily….” and so on. I am unaware of whether it is the fact that people really just do not care about another and that is why it is so easy to detach, or if they really think that their lack of heart concerning detachment is for the best? You know, if it is true that organs slowly shut down due to overall lack of use, I am surprised that some peoples’ hearts still beat. Gak gak gak! Really though, they are lucky that their emotional hearts do not tie in directly with their physical heart and its health. I just do not get some people nowadays. You were not like any of them, and that is why this was probably one of the worst things that could have happened. I did not expect it in the least, and I was completely unguarded. I knew of its existence and possibilities, but I knew nothing of how close that they really were to us, and to me. So maybe I am a fool for that; for disregarding something so important; for not paying enough attention to one of the foremost details. Or maybe on this one it was just my optimism handing out chances again, hoping for just a little bit of luck. Knowing me, I’ll side right in the middle.

Moving on does not mean that you have to put yourself or the other through the self-torture of just not seeing the person that you care(d) about. Even if it is not torture or hurtful to you, you really do not have to do that still. A lot of people seem to think this. I hate when people just throw out even their friendships without even having a solid reason to do so. Most of the time when you break up, you are losing your friend as well; often-time your best friend; even family. I do not understand how it is so easy to detach from this either. Let’s put a heroin addict in a room with loads of heroin, and see what happens when they suddenly run out! Love does not give the exact same affect obviously, but depending on how much that you care about that other person, it can be just as devastating in its very own ways. So my question is, when you care about someone so much, how do you so easily detach? I know one thing, and that is that I hate that feeling of being detached from. Shallow detachments like what I am stating are nothing but weaknesses; an easy option out for whoever is on the detaching side. I know this because I have done it before myself; once in an entirely immature relationship, where I was entirely immature, as were my feelings for the girl; I did not really care, and it hurt her. That is one reason why I question the intent and honesty of these other people’s feelings who are much, much older now than I was back then, and who seem to detach so easily still at these older ages. We should all be past this at this point; should be, that is. Maybe that is the answer to all of my confusion over this subject, maybe not. But regardless, no one ever deserves to have to go through that, regardless of age or anything else. And although it creates an impeccable life lesson, some in all honesty are just too harsh to be fair. But we all know that that is not what life is about; not about fairness. Not fairness towards ourselves from the rest of the world at least; I do not believe in that. But I do believe in fairness towards the rest of the world. I will not be the shallowness that life has proven to mostly be towards me. And with what I cannot take back from former actions, I can give back to the world with new ones. And with knowing that, I finally began to make sure that I am one person that will not do these types of things to others; not so selfishly and carelessly as I have experienced at least. No, nothing close to that.

You have detached from me several times, and it is the worst thing in the world for every one of them. But out of common sense, I guess that I have come to the realization that I do not subject enough weight into your heart for you to stay around. At the same time I think that I am wrong, and at the same time I know that that’s wrong because I just have not had a fair chance with you lately. But reality weighs much more heavily than my intuition does. I have tried to catch your attention, and honestly, catching and keeping your attention is not what is wrong, but getting you close enough for it is what is so hard. It is like you will not even look my direction out of fear of something; like a fear of me leaving. But you are not that weak; I know that you aren’t. So for better words, it’s like you will not stay focused onto me out of a fear of us simply going wrong. And it is like that fear outweighs the good and the possibilities that exist between us in your head; even though in reality, the bad is towered over by the good, story after story. I have made my attempts to even simply talk to you, and I have succeeded with results that seem to give us both so much hope, only for you to not follow up on even a phone call that may have even been promised. And then my calls go unanswered as well. It is just so weird, leveling this between love and reason. I know how to read when someone is not intrigued by me and by my words; I have that common sense. And this situation just does not read like that to me; it reads like you want everything that I do, but you are just scared. This is not a fucking pity me letter, or a fuck you response. This is not meant to hurt anyone. But it is a storm that I have had in my mind that just is not clearing up. And these questions: These “why did you leave’s” and “why won’t she call me’s” and “I thought she loved me” and “was I really just a tool” and “I thought she said that she realized things” and “why did she” and “I wonder if she’s happy” and just so many more things just keep going around and around and around. And the only thing that keeps me standing through this dizzying are the good memories and better questions like “I wonder why she called me this time” when you chose me to turn to out of nowhere at one of our lesser points, when I really didn’t expect you to anymore. You never looked for my guidance to that degree before when you have been as upset as you were. I remember you distinctly telling me that you prefer to be alone when you are mixed up in that kind of emotion, and I remember very distinctly, you proving that; so this certain turn of events made me happy, even though I absolutely hated the sound and idea of you crying and being that upset. It defined bittersweet.

So here’s to the optimist. I find myself living that role on a constant basis. I would much rather live my life looking forward to the good things to come, rather than the bad, no matter the size of the two when in comparison. After all, you did tell me that sometimes you can’t imagine being with anyone, but me. But see, I live that role too, but on a constant: The one where I can’t imagine being with anyone, but you.