Apathy, Epiphany, It’s All The Same

I’ve always believed that apathy was poisonous, an ugly trap to suck all the joy out of life, obliterate any reason to live. That is, I believed it until I started living it. Or maybe I still do believe it, but I’m too damn apathetic (about my own apathy, pfft) to do anything about it.
Sometimes I feel like I’m watching snippets of my life flow through the drain like grime. I stand back and watch as I continue to date Brandon, as apathetic and stoic as ever. I’m not sure I want to be anywhere near him, but I’m too "meh" to speak up. Or maybe I really am just a coward.
My parents make me mad sometimes, but I have nothing to bitch about. They carry on with their lives as I carry on with mine, separate. I don’t think I really care, but maybe, somewhere deep down, I do.
And Dustin puts a smile on my face, and I think somewhere down the line, we will live a fairytale. Maybe, I don’t know, who cares. I speak with such passion but my soul is out of it, separate. Always separate.
And I wake up and go to school and burn time. I go to work and joke around with my co-workers and make jolly conversation. I stare off into space at Brewers’ games and tune out when people are talking. Jennie rambles about how unhappy Steve is and I care, I really do, but I have no empathy. I have no sympathy. I don’t have anything.
And the funny thing is, is that I don’t feel broken, and I don’t feel alone. I don’t feel separate, nor sad, nor angry. People say things and I accept them, and in the same breath I launch into a rant. I rant but I don’t care. Not really. Not the way I’m supposed to. Not the way I used to.
I used to cry when I was in pain, stuck in some emotional rut waiting for someone to come rescue me. I used to get pissed off when people weren’t listening to me, when people didn’t agree with me, when people treated me like shit. I used to throw caution to the wind and in the same breath, throw myself into some project, some person, something. And sometimes I get pissed off when Brandon doesn’t take my advice; he’s the only person I have any control over.
So really, epiphany. Maybe I’m stoic because I have nothing to fix or save. I have no one to create happiness for, or financially support, or direct in the ways of life. I am no one’s crutch. I have no unrequited love. Everything I want, I could have. And somehow, that makes it unappealing. I can direct my school career, I can work at my job and earn money, I could have my pick of heart’s to keep or smash. I could feel worthless or feel great. It’s all up to me. And it’s all centered around me. I’m stoic because I’m still afraid to look. Look at myself. Maybe, I don’t know, who cares.
Maybe I do. Maybe I hope I do.
And in a strange way, I’m glad to hear it. I miss you too.

Or maybe, it’s not you that I miss.
Maybe it’s the challenge. Maybe I miss the challenge of making your happiness for you.
It gave me purpose.
Don’t say you never asked me to; it was written in every gesture, every silence, every word crooned at me.
I am not angry, I am not sad.
I don’t know how to miss you, or any person at all.
I know how to miss situations I could fix.
Print.
Amanda.