What could go wrong?

It’s hard to explain

pluralforapocalypse — Tue, 24 Jan 2012 06:20:07 +0000

It’s like, what you’re saying to me right now means everything in the world, and at the same time it means absolutely nothing. It’s incredibly moving to know that someone else thinks these things about me. It’s enough to make me cry (in a totally studly way… never mind, there’s no use in lying). But I’m also crying because I don’t believe any of them. You can call me strong and talented and kind and caring a thousand times, and it hardly matters because I can’t apply those adjectives to myself. And people are going to say that it’s because I have low self-esteem or something, but I think that it’s because I know myself better than anyone.

I know what I think every second of every day. That is why I believe that I am a bad person.

That awkward moment when…

pluralforapocalypse — Wed, 11 Jan 2012 05:27:11 +0000

Your ex-girlfriend quotes the song you’ve listened to a thousand times that you feel perfectly describes how you feel… about your other ex-girlfriend.

I need to stop reading her tumblr posts like a stalker. I’m identifying way too much with how she feels about this breakup, and it’s making me feel like a terrible person.

(For the record, the song is “Breakeven,” and the line is “What am I supposed to say when I’m all choked up and you’re okay?”)

[Non]Witty Observations and [Un]Shocking Revelations

pluralforapocalypse — Tue, 10 Jan 2012 05:07:23 +0000

I saw my ex-girlfriend in person for the first time today since the breakup. It wasn’t like it was the first time we’d made contact or anything. We started talking again last Tuesday, after an emergency situation with a mutual friend of ours (to whom my previous post is dedicated). It was stressful, and terrible, and I wish that it had never happened, but it got us talking again. We did say that we were going to stay friends after the breakup, so it’s good that we’ve talked.

Anyway, today was the first time we actually saw each other. I was supposed to head over to the Codester’s house to ice a cake (a project which I had to abandon without seeing it’s completion… sorry, Codie!), and he called me right before he was leaving to pick me up, letting me know that she was going to be there. I figured that it would be okay since I’m going to see her tomorrow, anyway, at the GSA meeting. It wasn’t awful. I guess that because the breakup wasn’t that bad and we’ve talked since then, it was easier to actually see her. Still, the transition is strange. There are little parts of me that don’t seem to realize that it’s different between us now. Like when I was trying to talk to her and I actually reached out and put my hand on my arm. I’m not really a physical person. It took me what seemed like ages to actually be comfortable with reaching out and touching her. The part of me that was so proud of the progress clearly didn’t recognize that that’s probably not okay anymore.

It’s not even that I see her and regret breaking up with her, or that I want to apologize and take everything back. It’s just that I look at her face and know that I’m never going to be kissing her again. I slip up and touch her arm and remember that I’m not supposed to anymore. My list of people I can comfortably touch has shrunk by one (leaving somewhere around three safe people). It’s a change. I’ve never been good with that.

On a separate note, I’ve realized something:

Maybe the reason that I can’t figure out how to help people is that I don’t have the slightest clue as to how to help myself.

A partial list of reasons I’m glad that you’re going to get better:

pluralforapocalypse — Thu, 05 Jan 2012 21:30:36 +0000

You’re one of the best bakers I’ve ever met
You make amazing break-up sundaes
You make up songs
You’re awful at drawing, but you still drew me an apology card with a unicorn on it that made my entire life better
You have an amazing singing voice
You always know what to say
You can tell when there’s something wrong in my life, even if I’m trying to act like that’s not true
You listened to me cry on the phone about hard adjusting to college was, even though you probably had more important things to do
You give me “hugs the size of Texas”
I love eating vegetable lo mein with you
Remember that one time you said that we could make any dessert in that recipe book, and I picked some chocolate custard pie, but you couldn’t get the egg whites to stiffen and there was only sugar substitute and then even the dog wouldn’t eat it?
If you weren’t around, we couldn’t do stupid stuff like that anymore
You never made me feel weird or crazy for my gender identity issues. Even though you didn’t understand at first, you still supported me
You will cut a bitch
You supported me in my decision to try out for Gavroche in Les Mis last year, even though he’s a ten-year-old boy and I was female-bodied and seventeen
You do so much for everyone, especially me
You have a wonderful smile and laugh
You’re one of the only people I don’t feel weird saying “I love you” to
I really do love you. A lot.
You called me to ask me how to spell “douchebag.”
You understand my views on The Notebook, Titanic, and the epilogue of Harry Potter
You’ve always been there for me when I need you
Now, next time I see you, I can give you a “hug the size of Texas”

We broke up

pluralforapocalypse — Mon, 02 Jan 2012 05:42:54 +0000

It went surprisingly well. We talked. We cried. We agreed that it was for the best (I think). We decided that we’re still going to be friends, and I’m still coming to talk at the GSA meeting on the tenth.

Even though it wasn’t horrible and scarring, I still don’t feel good. I guess that it doesn’t matter what the circumstances are; the end of a relationship is still usually a sad thing just because it’s the end. I didn’t think that it was even affecting me that much until I realized how much everything makes me think of how she’s not my girlfriend anymore. References to New Year’s kisses, other people’s relationships progressing… it all leaves me with that bitter, recently single taste in the back of my mouth. I guess that I’m not a soulless robot, after all.

That being said, I’m keeping busy. I had a New Year’s “party” last night (“party” is in quotation marks because I don’t know if you can count two people eating mac and cheese pizza and falling asleep while watching Buffy as a party), which was thoroughly enjoyable. It wasn’t until I was on my own that I started thinking about the breakup again. I have a friend who reassures me that I’m not completely unlovable, but I’m still so uncertain. It’s wholly possible that no one’s going to love me like she did again. Sometimes it seems like I’m just compilation of things that make me harder to love. My habits, my methods of communication, the way my face can never decide whether or not it’s going to be attractive… I was lucky to find one person who found all of that endearing. I might not find another. I know that I’m young, and that I have forever, and that I’m being overly dramatic, but I can’t help it if that’s how I feel.

SHIT

pluralforapocalypse — Wed, 28 Dec 2011 03:48:06 +0000

So, I’m about to post to tumblr about how difficult it’s going to be to break someone’s heart and… and… she’s fucking following me now. I thought that she said that she didn’t follow people she knew! God fucking dammit!

So, that’s what I’m here. Now people I know (namely, my girlfriend who I’m working up the courage to break up with) follow me on tumblr, and the only places I can be anonymous are here and FanFiction. Goddammit.

This is so unfortunate. We’re going to see each other on Thursday, and she’s going to be all excited, and then I’m going to have to break up with her. It’s not right for me to put it off any longer. I wouldn’t be helping anyone by doing that. I’m such a wreck over this. I’ve never broken up with anyone before, and it sucks so much. And my high school’s GSA is asking me to come back and talk to them about what it’s like to be queer in college at a meeting on January 10th, but it’s going to be so awkward because I’ll have recently broken up with one of their officers.

I’m regretting ever dating her in the first place right now. Not because of anything she’s done. She’s done nothing wrong and everything right. She’s been understanding, and supportive of my gendershit, and she hasn’t ever complained that she always has to be the one to call me or to make plans. But right now, I’m so stressed out and depressed about this whole situation that it makes me regret the whole relationship.

And the fact still remains that I’m probably never going to find anyone who feels the way she feels about me again. No one’s going to find my neuroses or nerdiness or social ineptitude charming. No one else is going to want to put up with having a girlfriend who is sometimes a boyfriend. That’s a terribly selfish way of putting it, but I’m scared that no one else is ever going to love me.

pluralforapocalypse — Mon, 05 Dec 2011 18:39:07 +0000

I think that I have to break up with her.

I guess this is sort of an update

pluralforapocalypse — Wed, 30 Nov 2011 22:08:31 +0000

I know that I haven’t posted in a while, but I feel really shitty and I don’t even have the energy to blog about it.

So I’m giving you a poem. I make no guarantees as to the quality, but here it is.

Disguise

I am not the coolest person you know
My outsides are flawed, and my insides are coal
Your eyes gloss over my cracks and bumps and see someone else
Some beautiful stranger who deserves you
And every time you say I’m wonderful,
I feel like I’ve been lying to you

Because I don’t see wonderful unless I’m reflected in your gaze
I don’t feel it when I’m panicking at a simple touch
Or when I’m searching for the right words to say
Or when I’m fidgeting at my necklace because you called me “gorgeous”
Or when I’m trying to remember what good girlfriends do
And I don’t know if I’m a master of disguise
or if you’re looking through different eyes
But there’s something you’re missing here

You say that you feel safe when you’re in my arms,
But my radius and ulna are toothpicks, bound with rubber band ligaments
and wrapped in rice-paper skin
You say that you don’t care that I’m not the strongest person
But sometimes I feel like I’m the weakest
I don’t tell you these things because I’m powerless in my true form
It’s not that I don’t trust you – it’s that I’m a coward hiding behind thick stage makeup

And you,
You trust me so much that it’s weighing heavy on my shoulders
Breaking my twig-bones and making me feel less wonderful all the time
Because I know the truth
I know the things I feel, and every one of them says you shouldn’t trust me
because I can’t even trust myself
You’re going to think that I’m wonderful until the day I break your heart
And it’s going to hurt that much more because of that

I’m not the person you think I am.
I’m a liar, and a faker, and I don’t know how to show you
It scares me to think that you might see me for who I am
But not half as much as it scares me to think that you’ll never know –
You’re falling in love with someone who doesn’t deserve it.
You’re falling in love with someone terrible.

Dammit

pluralforapocalypse — Mon, 24 Oct 2011 15:03:12 +0000

Do you ever do that thing where you give advice to someone, and it’s good advice, and then you realize that it’s exactly what you should have done but didn’t?

“If you’re just going along with this because she brought it up and you want to test it out because you’re sick of being single, I don’t know if it’s fair for her not to know that.”

Is that what I did? When we first started dating, I didn’t have feelings for her. I thought that she was cute, you know? And I was tired of being single and I wasn’t going to pass up an opportunity to not be single anymore. And I thought that it might make me stop hurting. And for once, I wanted to be the one who was with someone while she was single. Those aren’t good reasons. Those are awful reasons.

Maybe that doesn’t matter, though, if I have feelings for her now. Which I do. Don’t I? I like kissing her, but that’s not the same. I don’t know. Sometimes I feel like I’m right on the edge of loving her, and sometimes I… I just don’t feel anything, to be honest. With my ex, it wasn’t like that. As far as emotions were concerned, I always knew where I stood while we were dating. I fell in love with her all at once, and I felt that way all the time. Felt, and feel still. Is this different because of the distance, or because I jumped into this relationship for the wrong reasons? I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m much more emotionally stunted than I like to admit. Is staying in this relationship leading her on? Am I leading someone on? Am I going to hurt her?

God, I’m a horrible person.

I am so hung up on this girl

pluralforapocalypse — Fri, 21 Oct 2011 04:03:53 +0000

That if my life really were an indie movie (as one of my friends insists it is), a van of my friends would have come to pick me up, given me some tough love (“It’s been four years! You gotta live your life, man!”), and we would have gone on wonderful adventures that completely erased all of my feelings for her. I wouldn’t just be happy with my girlfriend, I would be so happy that it would wash away any and all prior relationship pain, and she would probably teach me to do a rain dance or something because that’s what the Manic Pixie Dream Girls in indie movies do. I would have learned to lighten up, and we’d have a cutesie acoustic soundtrack, and I would have written her a song by now.

But, contrary to popular belief, my life is not an indie movie. My soundtrack right now is the Backbeats singing “Breakeven” on loop, and the raw skin on my thumbs and scabs on my face tell me that I haven’t learned to lighten up, and I write angsty poems instead of charming love songs. In the real world, you can like a person a lot, even be on the verge of loving that person, and it still feels like a hand at your throat when you hear that the person who used to love you is joined at the hip with some other guy. And at the end of every adventure, there are still all these big, dark, scary feelings waiting for me right where I left them, and they don’t ever go away. Ever.

I live in the shittiest indie movie ever.

Aside from The Room.