November scenario

It would feel stupid to say I'm OK. I know it's not true. If I'd have a chance to take it all back, I'm not sure of what I would take. All I know is that the reason that we make mistakes is to learn how not to repeat any of those in the future.
Under the shadow of doubt and a sober darkness, I shed my cry for help, in a huge issue I've caused myself. It's not so much of an issue. Not even a doubt. It's just uncertainty. And I have no idea why on earth every time I am with him I have that trust in him, and that faith of the future with him, and when I'm all alone at home I suddenly get depressed and start the doubting. The matters of life can sometimes whirl up our minds and souls, twist up our perspectives and beliefs. In this... hurricane I got lost. And I keep feeling lost for quite a while. These weekly visits to the Court and the trial get me down and drive me crazy, depress me in my best moments, and as I realize that there is no one to blame but me, everything falls apart, once again.
I must admit, this cold November weather is perfect for a dramatic scenario that comes true, every little bit more true every day. This November scenario that brings up what's left of my soul, I'm not sure if the best or the worst. The things I've done lately... The things I've said... The ones that I haven't done or said... It all hits me in the head, when I needed an arm to hold on... The strength I need to get back up. Back on my own feet. Trying to hold on and keep the balance on my knees... so I won't go even lower in despair.
I have heard this so many times, that I even thought it was true, but I've heard it from people that haven't faced the reality yet. People that even if their life is almost over, they still have no clue about the harshness of what is out there. People that have "grown", and they are mature ... Bullshit. That's just a bunch of crappy words, mixed thoughts and wrong impressions, put together in a way that sounds pretty, but it has no effect or cause on the subject. People that enjoy making sentences that are correct, but only in grammar, and maybe correctly timed, but with no actual source. Philosophy.
Ground floor please. Is this elevator broken? Am I broken? Is my mind playing tricks on me again? Am I only dreaming? Is it true? Is it really true? Because it's exactly how I've been wishing it to be. Mom's approval, his parents' approval, brother's, plans, journeys, the ring, the promise, three words, eight letters. And something that seems to go to direction "forever". Forever.
Am I dreaming? Should I let go and float away? Let myself flown into a dream come true? If I feel torn it's only an misunderstanding? A mistake in my mind and thoughts?

This November scenario drives me crazy.

Tell me a new story.

Mi-aduc aminte o replica dintr-un film, ce pe moment mi s-a parut extrem de stupida, dar foarte adevarata, "There is nothing better for a break-up than a hook-up".
Daca as mai fi Simona pe care o stiam inainte de X, as fi afirmat cu mana pe inima ca nu ar fi putut in nicun caz sa treaca peste toate amintirile, sentimentele, replicile, micile chestii care aduc aminte de anumite momente si anumite ipostaze fara o perioada destul de lunga de refacere. Perioada ce de fiecare data nu a fost "as-planned", mai lunga, mai scurta, cu mai multe sau mai putine servetzele, mai multe sau mai putine lacrimi si depresii la vederea lui sau a unui gest sau loc ce instantaneu face corelatia cu fosta relatie.
Daca as mai fi Simona pe care o stiam, sigur ea nu ar fi vrut nici in ruptul capului sa ramana si sa infrunte, sa continue viata de scolar/itza in acelasi liceu de rahat, pe acelasi culoar, in acelasi grup de prieteni si cunostinte cu X.
Simona ar fi fugit.
Simona ar fi incercat sa se cufunde intr-un nor negru de dezolare si disperare, crezand ca ii va fi mai usor.
Din fericire, Simona a cazut din pat si s-a lovit la cap, nu asa de tare ca in tabara, dar si-a dat ea seama ca viata doare, oricat de mult incerci sa fugi de necaz si sa dispari.
Simona si-a dat seama ca o rana nu se vindeca repede si fara cicatrici urate daca nu o tratezi, daca nu scoti aschia si motivul de infectie din "buba". Chiar daca doare.

Mi-ar place sa vad un film cu evolutia Simonei de-a lungul timpului. Ar fi pe cat de ciudat, pe atat de comic si penibil. Viata merge inainte, ca vrem, ca nu vrem, nu ne asteapta. Asa cum X nici acum nu a avut doza de maturitate sa vorbeasca cu Simona despre tot ce a fost, de fapt, ce nu a fost, tot asa nici Simona nu a asteptat. Momentan Simona se amuza la gandul cum, la un moment dat, X va cadea si el din pat si va vedea cum Simona e deja departe. [>:)]
Nu am nici cea mai mica intentie de a rezolva, analiza, da vreun sfat pentru Simona, nu imi bat capul. E prea complicat, si nu am de gand sa incerc sa inteleg. Pentru ca niciodata viata nu va decurge asa cum crede sau trage vreunu' vreo concluzie din'aia filosofica scoasa din nu-stiu-ce carte de "corazon".
Din perspectiva unei persoane exterioare si tertiare, cu niciun fel de implicare in problema subiectului de mai sus, e mult mai usor sa tragi concluzii - mai mult sau mai putin intelepte - si cu siguranta mai usor de aplicat. Analiza psihologica nu va ajuta, e un caz minor. De asemenea, nici macar sa te "confesezi" unui adult, unui prieten apropiat, foarte apropiat. Automat va interveni parerea lui, din o cu totul alta perspectiva. Am invata pe propria-mi piele din pacate, ca nu parerea unuia care e cu totul din afara faptului e corecta. Imi dau kick din situatie, ma uit per ansamblu apoi in amanunt, observ toate detaliile. Pana la urma cine stie mai bine sentimentul pe care il incerc, decat eu?

Acum, daca ma voi scuza, am un pic de treaba, telefonul suna si vreau sa raspund.
Parul inca miroase a parfumul lui, iar gluga cu atat mai mult.
E un nou capitol.
Viata merge mai departe.
Si...
Imi place !


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Alo?
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