Unfortunately, my Dostoevsky perusal mission has resulted in a failure as I was sufficiently distracted with other texts such as: The Virgin Suicides, Howl’s Moving Castle and Breaking Dawn. The Virgin Suicides was excellent and I was delightedly shocked to recognise the term ‘fin-de-siecle’ in there, also highly intrigued by the perspective the novel is written in. Howl’s Moving Castle is like any other folkloric fantasy novel and Breaking Dawn became an addiction, I couldn’t put it down, I almost cried, laughed many times and thoroughly enjoyed it. Although it was written like a bloody piece of good indulgent fanfiction, I think that’s why it was enjoyable. I am also okay with Jacob now, I like him. That’s sacrilege, I know as almost a year ago I wanted to slaughter that mutt, now he’s like the likeable cousin because he released Bella and imprinted on Renesmee. Renesmee. Seriously. Meyer! Demonstrate some creativity please!
Goodness, I’ve developed a ridiculous tangent. My apologies, I digress. I am not blogging today to discuss books. When one has six days without school or exams, aside from reading, one suddenly obtains a ridiculous stretch of time in which to think. When you’re me, you think superfluously. I think I think too much. Even now, I’m over-thinking things. Anyway, yes, I was thinking extensively, and also had a huge chunk of time to cultivate quixotic emotions especially when one reads a novel such as Breaking Dawn. (Honestly, boys, adopt Twilight as your female BIBLE and Edward Cullen as your heathen-god leader.) Coalesced with such rumination I have delivered myself to the onset of an unhealthy, festering inferiority complex. I won’t indulge in such inferiority complex, I believe, well, I hope I am more intelligent than that self-flagellation. Life’s a bitch like that, but what can one do but eat one’s own damn lemons? Other than making them into lemonade and selling it for fifty-cents a cup, of course (just the mark of my metaphorical thinking in line with our capitalist society).
Quixotic emotions, limerence and lime, inferiority complex? Who else could I be referring to, but him of course? Built in or programmed into the female psyche is the ridiculous tendency to analyse things. It’s brilliant when one is in an English class, but disastrous, stressful and arduous when such analytical ability is immediately (and unfortunately instinctively) utilised in the courting arena. So we play the courting game. I’ve decided to blog and document everything relevant I possibly can from the moment I met him. I need this cathartic release. He’s dominating my thoughts and that won’t do. I will not accept that. I am an independent woman whose mind does not require subjugation by the dominion of a guy, well, man, really. I’m hoping that releasing these thoughts and ponderings from my system will reduce the thoughts of him swimming around my head.
Him. That’s all I’ll dare refer to him as. Him. He’s something beyond comprehension. You really know how to pick’em Dana. Really. Why couldn’t choose someone a little less, unattainable? A little closer to this planet? A little more in my own world, a little more convenient, less far beyond my league? Sometimes I think that this can only end in heartache. This isn’t about ‘the thrill of the chase’ either. I’d rather that there BE NO CHASE. I wish life were as simple as imprinting. Sure, by human nature, the forbidden is exciting and alluring. It’s arousing and intoxicating. Why do you think I love DHr fanfiction so much? The temptation of the forbidden, of the unattainable is potent and carnal, regressing us back to our childhood needs and desires where rumination was not so deep, but rather instinctual. It’s pure pleasure and pain. I see that. It’s beautiful in its complexity but honestly, why can’t things just be bloody SIMPLE? On second thought, he isn’t exactly ‘forbidden,’ is he? Just highly unattainable. Believe you me I am receiving no ‘high’ off this stupid chase. I’d rather he be mine already.
But I’m not so much like that. I know me, and sure, I’m human I’m ridiculously selfish at times. Yet when it concerns romantic love, I am all giving. It’s all or nothing with me, I will bare my soul to them. I would do anything for that person and that’s a fact. (Remember the newspaper run?) If he says ‘no,’ or ‘sorry’ – however he may phrase it – I would accept it immediately and leave it at that, be his friend and pretend such feelings never took root in my heart and smile warmly, laugh pleasantly and support him when he does decide to chase the girl of his dreams. Because that’s what love does to me. Oh well, I can’t say I’m ‘in love’ with him, just highly infatuated. Despite my feminist beliefs, I am granting him liberty and free reign over our relationship and he doesn’t even KNOW it. I really wish I didn’t feel this way. But why does he have to be so damn wonderful?
This is why I only wanted to be his friend primordially. From the beginning I only wanted to be his friend despite the fact that I knew I liked him deeply, because what am I to expect from the unattainable? I can only expect nothing and everything from him. I want to expect nothing from him and am schooling myself to expect nothing from him because I am aware that my feelings are not reciprocated, this is unrequited, as always. Expecting anything would lead to unbounding disappointment. He already failed twice to meet me, so I’m quite sure I should expect nothing from him. But how can I expect less than everything from someone so beyond anyone I have ever met? How can I expect nothing less than everything from the boy who is so much more a man than all the guys I know put together? How can I tell myself to treat him platonically and expect nothing from someone so wonderful and awe-inspiring? HOW?
Such is my predicament. But I’ll concede, that since I’ve been attempting to change my mindset, I’ve relaxed around him. I’m trying more now than ever to be myself. The other day he informed me that he made it to the debating finals - that was brilliant, excellent and wonderful. It just made me like him even more, I am so proud of him and yet selfishly wish to live my would-be debating glory vicariously through his success. I must attend the finals, and so I began perusing their school website for the date (result was a fail) but discovered, shockingly, a section of the site totally dedicated to him where they promulgated his success as if he were the risen Messiah. I was shocked, awed, and also felt like some idiotic fan girl wowing at his celebrity status. Nevertheless, I could feel an inferiority complex stirring from within me. He had all these other girls at his fingertips, ready and willing to be with him. They were of the same social class, status, education and proximity, who attended the same events with the same interests. They are, dare I say it, compatible in every single way. What would I bring to the table? I have no idea.
I know I’m not going to go on this self-flagellating guilt trip. I’m not going to wallow in self-pity or doubt. That’s highly unattractive and counter-productive when I’m trying to better myself. LOL I feel like Bella when she’s around Edward. Only the envy doesn’t arise from the physical. I know that I must be thankful for at least knowing him personally, this much, anyway. I am thankful for God granting me the gift, the miracle even, of me knowing him at least. He makes me humble myself, but also he instigates this passion and drive within me to reach for my goals NOW. I’ll be eternally grateful to him for that.
The disappointing factor introduces itself when I realise that I’m not a priority in his life. I’m not a priority, I’m probably a good, reliable friend who he can flirt with. There’s potential there but considering the way his priorities are arranged, relationships are far from his mind. In expecting nothing from him, that fact is slowly taking residence in my brain and I’m slowly accepting it. Of course I’ll go on liking him, it’s fun, and I’ll enjoy the solitary honeymoon high while it’s still happening, but as much as I want to wish for it, I doubt I’ll get with him. There’s always hope though :P But I keep my emotions in check like I have a personal Jasper and I make sure that I don’t hope too much.
Wow, I can still remember the first time I ever saw him. Vividly. He entered the room and whoosh, suddenly his presence was filling it. When he began talking I was scared shitless, I knew immediately that Stef was going to lose. He awed me, I never knew any one remotely like him. He was amazing, in true form. Physically, I thought he was quite handsome, although someone I’d never personally go for, he was too unattainable, nothing would amount from it even if by some stretch of the imagination I managed to talk to him. He wowed me. I left their school happy and blushing. He was amazing. I memorised his name immediately. Of course, this is the abridged version.
I’ll continue this blog later. I’ll vlog the rest. I think I’ll be able to document it better that way.
But this was good release.
Until next time –
- Deeh xoxox
