What is it about the late hours of the evening that makes people become involuntarily honest? Why do we admit things out loud that are just fleeting thoughts during the day? Do we repress our true thoughts and feelings so that we can “function normally” and deal with life? Do I really have to play the part of Super Girl during the day, acting like I have it all together and that my life is so normal and that I can hit whatever curve balls life decides to throw my way?
These are the thoughts that I’m having tonight. Granted, it’s late in the evening so I’m naturally being more honest. During the day I would never admit to anyone else that even though it’s been 1 month and 26 days, I’m still just as heartbroken about being broken up as I was the day it happened. Which is another truth. My heart is broken. I pretended (and still do) that I wasn’t that invested. It makes it easier to deal with everyone else. But it’s a lie. All the justifications in the world still don’t chalk up to the fact that no matter how dysfunctional and hard it was, I would do it all over again in a heartbeat. In daylight, I would never tell anyone that I’m so scared of moving into a new place, starting over and being responsible for all my bills and utilities all on my own. And I would never ever say that I feel really lonely, that I crave sincere human interaction and that even though I’ve resigned myself to a life of independent loneliness, I hope against all hope every minute of every day that someone will be part of my life eventually.
Why is it that the only time I ever heard the words “I like you” was late in the evening, as we were falling asleep ? Almost a subconscious thought slipping from him; one that he would never admit to himself if he were possessing of his full faculties. It makes me second guess every minute of every day that we had, and whether it was true or not. And if it wasn’t, then why is this so hard? Why can’t we just be friends like he asked? Why does it hurt so much to get the cold shoulder or brush off from someone who only pretended to care about me?
Why do people put up such elaborate defenses? Is it so bad to be vulnerable, to admit your true feelings to the world? As a whole, have we become that afraid of being hurt, that afraid of rejection, that we feel we have to hide who we are from even the people we cherish most in the world? Why do we feel the need to “be tough”? Why am I still awake at 3 in the morning?
I have a not-so-quite unique opportunity the next couple months. I’m starting over, moving. I’m leaving parts of my life behind and growing up (or so I hope). So maybe with this new change of habitat, and associations, I can decide what’s really important. Hanging on to the past, or moving on with my life. Maybe time really does mend a broken heart, but I think time needs a little help from us too. We can’t just expect that things will change automatically. We have to make things happen, and shape our own destinies.
Miss Stacey said that “tomorrow is a new day, fresh with no mistakes in it.” We’ll see what kind of mistakes the new “grown-up” me makes.
