All the right moves.

It's as if all the past relationships, the heartbreaks, the crushes have been folded up in an envelope and tucked away in a hidden drawer. Sent out to sea. Gone, vanished.

Love is when you look into someone's eyes and go all the way inside; 

to their soul and you both know.

Last night I tried as hard as I could to stifle it, close the jar tight, but his eyes make me want to be honest--as if I can't hide anything from them.. I cried, he sat there holding me just listening--he offered me solace, not false promises.  There's something about him that makes me want to remove the wall.  Perhaps it's because I don't there to be anything between us on either side.  It's hard to remove a wall that is so apart of you, so etched within you that it feels natural, right.

You know, I'm so tired of the dead weight from my father.  I'm tired of writing about it, caring about it, feeling it.  I'm tired of reading it, remembering it.  Why can't it just vanish too? I choke on what could have been, should have been.  It's too large of a pill to simply swallow--I don't know how to try to..do this..any differently--how do I do this?

J said that I'm going to move on from this, that resolution will come.  I cringe and rewind to December 16th. I think of a crushed spirit, months of depression, and years of inadequacy.  Even worse, I feel such disappointment.  With myself.  I don't want to be this girl.  I don't want to be someone who can't move on, move forward.  That's not me.  I want  the feelings to be dead to me like he is.  They say that the opposite of love is not hate, it's indifference.  I'm waiting for it to come upon me, lay it to rest like sunset.

We finished talking on the phone tonight, it creeped its way into the conversation.  People have always told me that I need to "deal with it"--I replied, "But what does that really mean." I've always felt that I do deal with it--all the time; here in this journal I write what I think..it's on my mind more than I would want other people to catch on to.  He said something that shocked me, something so beautifully simple--

"Dealing with it means letting yourself feel whatever emotion it may be in that moment--if you're angry, be angry, if you're sad, be sad--but I want to do this with you, I want to be here for you."

I never thought that "dealing" with this would be letting myself be.  I told him I always feel so disappointed with myself when I let my emotions get the best of me and I get upset.  I dislike people who have pity parties for themselves--don't we all have something rumbling under the surface to feel sorry for ourselves about? Whether it's a shitty job, a break-up, homesickness, loneliness, lack of income, sickness, divorced parents--etc, etc.  Sometimes I feel that if we let ourselves do that, we devalue all the good we have in our lives.  Shouldn't we just be grateful for what we have, and move on from what we don't? Or rather..who we don't?  Obviously how I am not "dealing" with it isn't making a big enough difference because I'm still carrying it around..maybe, if I don't make it something I'm not allowed or supposed to feel---I won't be aware of it as much.  Just a thought..like I've always said, I'm a work in progress--moreso in some aspects than others.