Fuck All That

March 17, 2013 § Leave a comment

The most compelling stories to me are the most tragic in some ways: when two good people just can’t make it work. No one did anything wrong, necessarily, but for whatever reason or reasons, the couple just couldn’t make it work, make it last in a way that made both parties happy. It’s so much easier (and perhaps less interesting, from an audience viewpoint) when someone does something terrible. At least then you can hate them for it, you can see exactly where and how they crossed the line, and things are much more permanent. When two good people can’t make it work, it’s that much more of a compelling story because it’s more tragic. It’s tragic that they didn’t work out because they both deserve good things in life and they both made each other happy. It just wasn’t meant to be, and it’s a harsh reminder that fate can be so cruel, so unfeeling or unsympathetic. 

I always think that alcohol will make me feel better, that in some way it will numb the feelings or thoughts that hurt me the most. It doesn’t. It amplifies my feelings of self-doubt and the thoughts that say “But what if…” or “Why don’t you just…” or “Maybe he was right…”. 

Stay strong, kid. At this point in my emotional rollar coaster, I don’t give a fuck about anything. I have to keep applying for jobs, I have to finish my application for this travel scholarship, I have to finalize my thesis committee. Fuck all that. I don’t care. I just want to get out of here, start over somewhere new. Be anonymous. I want to be where I don’t matter. God, life is so much easier there. 


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