Snowscape

It’s 4 a.m. and I am awake and aching for winter. A snowscape would befit my mood, which is as nostalgic and silly as usual. It seems wrong to have a window open in the middle of October, especially when I’m feeling like I’ve lost something important that can never be retrieved. And moreover, I’m not really sure how people can go through their lives oblivious to the sharp-edged feelings such as this, the kind that keep you awake, the kind that open the eyes of your soul.

I re-read most of my diary today, starting with 2006 and working my way through 2009. My heart giggled and clamored at my sophomore brain, all the self-righteous and ignorant things I said. Then I got to 2008, and my heart broke over again as I crawled, gasping into December 2008. I read things too close to my heart, too close to home. Between Brandon and Nick, 2008 was a handful. I was so eloquently confused, and I can taste each feeling once again as I cruise, entry by entry.

It led to the question…Why do I always get the stoic men? Brandon being (surprisingly) the worst of all. Nick wasn’t really stoic, he just threw a veil over his feelings that took some time to pry off. But it eventually came off, and without much resistance. But Brandon? It’s like pulling teeth. And to this day, I cannot see what he doesn’t wish me to see. I get only the scraps that he chooses to give. He was always that way, but it got worse when I broke his heart.

I cannot stand stoicism. It makes me angry. I’ve been through enough in life to realize how easy it is to become bitter (and to shut down emotionally), but I also realize how important it is to open yourself up anyway. I’ve hurt and been hurt by being open, but never have I experienced anything so rewarding as letting people in. It is an unparalleled bonding of two souls, forever fused at that point in the time line. It’s incredibly magical, and I can almost always taste the colors and sounds. And often, if you have some talent for writing, you can capture that moment and put it to paper, and when you read it days, months, years later, you can recall the sensory experience completely.

But I’m rambling.
Slightly sad, very nostalgic, and most of all, craving that fusion of souls that has long been absent (or perhaps it is just very brief to preserve its magic).

love,
Amanda