Yesterday I decided to make a Tinder account again. I have been thinking about it for a bit with the intention of making a stupid profile, but I ended up just making a normal one with some help from friends. I still miss some of the parts from my relationship with A, but at the same time, my memory is pretty hazy and so I don’t have anything concrete to hold. I think missing things is not necessarily a bad thing, but as my therapist said, a reminder of something you want in the future. And some sort of incentive to push yourself to get something like that again. I hope she’s doing well. I wanted to reach out to her just to talk and I guess convince myself that we are on good terms, but my therapist talked about several other things I didn’t consider and how it may not be a good idea. Eventually, I settled on the thought that it would ultimately hurt her, since I don’t think she’s been able to take the time to really process it or work through things; now it becomes selfish for me to reach out to her again since I know that it would likely hurt her and so I don’t want to do that. I think I can comfortably say that I still love her now, but in the sense that I want good things to happen to her, just not involving me.
I randomly had a fear, and so I checked my grades from last quarter. I got a 93% in one optional class I was worried about, and the professor set that as an A- which is a 3.85 GPA. This ruined my 4.0, making it a 3.98. But all I see is a failure. This was my last chance to get a 4.0, and it’s gone all because of a group project class that I begged my teammates to work for. And they continued to tell me that it doesn’t matter and that it would be fine, and how they don’t care about their grade. I did 95% of the work, and they did the 5% so badly that it was enough to lose my 4.0.
I put in so much work, sacrificed so much all for just the power to say I had a 4.0. Something that I never had before, but my sister did. Something that was held against me. There it goes. I know this changes nothing else in my life, but it does matter to the younger me, constantly compared to my sister and to others around me. This was finally going to be my chance to show that I wasn’t just the bottom of the barrel, but rather I was normal. And I’ll never get that chance now. I want to cry.
Enough immediate fires were put out to allow me to talk with my therapist about what happened with my mom about a month ago. If nothing else I remember the bitterness I hold so close to my heart. She asked me what sort of mother figure/father figure I had growing up, and my answer was none. No coaches, no teachers, no adults, no nothing. And I don’t know what else to taste other than this bitterness that sits in my mouth with a metallic taste. It simply is. There is nothing I can do to change that. It could have been worse, but it sure as hell could have been better. I think I have two responses to people when they talk about interacting with their families. One is a violent envy that sits just behind my tongue, like a mute on everything else until it passes. And the other is ignorance. It’s easy for me to not even register talk about family since I didn’t get to have one. When someone talks about grandparents or cousins, those are just words. I have no memories tied to them, and so if things are well, I don’t notice the absence of experience there. When people say they call their mom or talk with their dad, it’s like reading about magic in a book. I know of it because I’ve read or heard about it, but I know it’s not real. Until I remember it is. Just not for me. And then I feel like there is a chasm between us, of an experience neither of us could comprehend. I cannot imagine what it is like to have that, and they cannot imagine what it is like to not.
I fucking hate the question of if my family still lives in San Diego for when I move back for my new job. I hate lying but I hate the pity of explaining my situation more. I feel nothing but anger hearing those stupid fucking comments about “oh I’m so sorry” when I mention how I didn’t go home for break, or for summer. You can just go ahead and rot in whatever your hell is for that. I don’t know what you would even expect me to say in response. Do you want me to break down and cry and just wallow in the misery of not having the shit you do? From the bottom of my heart, fuck you. It’s an ugly thought that I don’t want to write down, but I feel a gross satisfaction of the things I have better than them and I hold that close to my heart in those moments. I have no other option than to look down on them. Because I have a stacked resume. Because I got a high paying job. Because I am at the top of my classes. Because I’m physically strong. I have to look down on them because they have a family to go home to. They have someone to call. They got to be raised. And I fucking hate them for it. I hate them because what did they do to deserve it, and why did I not.
And as is always, anger takes off it’s trenchcoat to reveal grief underneath. And all I can do is try to cry.
I finished charging my car completely, but I stayed for an extra hour just to finish the beta squad hotel YouTube video. I don't remember the last time I've laughed so hysterically. I'm happy I'm alive.
The show is incredibly funny, but at the same time it’s a very stark description of manipulation. I think it’s most visible in the main character Barry, with his moral compass being muddied by a series of logical decisions that end up in such a painful set of circumstances. Watching the show, I can’t help but feel how terrible it must be to go through life in a manipulative relationship. To lose a sense of autonomy and identity.
This was a line from basketball shoes. It made me almost cry in the sun while eating a Subway footlong. It was just the picture of being comfortable again, and realizing it doesn’t hurt anymore. I don’t know if I should have named this nineteen, or if this is just the human condition.
I felt a pretty hollow longing today. Earlier today I thought about how much it sucks to not have a mom growing up. And how I can’t have that now. I know plenty of people don’t have a mother either, but usually it feels like they have some sort of replacement family member, like an aunt or a grandma. Instead, I just had a Mom who neglected me. I know that there are reasons for everything, and that manifests itself in the way I am currently – I would not be me with a different childhood. But I still kinda wish I didn’t low-roll the family aspect.
I went to enjoy some sun and the break between my classes earlier today, and I did this by going to the local park and just shooting for a while. When I got there, there were 3 men in the grass shirtless and another guy shooting shirtless, and since it was pretty hot I said fuck it and took my shirt off also. I felt pretty damn self conscious at first, but that was actually so insanely nice. Feeling the ocean breeze on my skin while sweating on a hot day, and also feeling the sunlight on my skin was divine. I’m glad I did.
I again didn’t sleep in time today and instead stayed up watching youtube. I’m going to sleep in tomorrow to compensate. Maybe I sacrifice some free time tomorrow night and instead spread out my gym across the day so I can sleep in more. Or I wake up at 10 so I have 8 hours of sleep.
I talked about in therapy how now is the weird stage where I’ve forgotten so much of the relationship, where I forget most of the bad parts. All that’s left is a weird A shaped longing in my memories that I can’t quite place.