Life Notes: Bad in the beginning, but good in the end.

- I fell out of love today. It was quick, but not painless. Actually- it was quite the opposite. It hurt. A lot. I've only really been in love twice... I know I say I'm in love a lot, but I'm an expert exaggerater and usually when I say I'm in love I'm only infatuated. A few weeks later I've forgotten my infatuation because, most likely, it's been replaced by a new one.

This one was different. This one was LOVE.

When I got up in the morning I would think of him. I would dress carefully, and dress well (even comb my hair and put on makeup!), so that I could be the type of woman he would be attracted to. I started hobbies and gained more knowledge, so as to be an interesting person to be around. I HAD A LIFE, so that mine seemed more whole and appealing.

I made myself a better person. For him.

Every second of my day was lived for him. My future was worth planning- for him. I even *gasp* started seriously thinking about family and marriage. For him.

And then the bubble burst.

I can tell you when. I can probably even tell you how. What I can't tell you is why. It just happened. One minute I was in love, and the next minute there was a dark inside me that grew and grew until I could no longer breathe. My life before that moment suddenly became worthless, and my dreams for my life after were without warning violently erased.

I was left, gasping on the floor, with nothing to hold on to but my own empty shell.

to make matters worse:

- I had forgotten myself. Peter and I spent the night tonight discussing many things, most of which centered around religion. His girlfriend is extremely religious, and up until now he hasn't been too knowledgeable about anything of that field. To help him learn more she bought him a Bible for his birthday, and he brought it out to read me some proverbs that he found interesting... and hearing him read them made me very sad.

I remember when I used to care about being good.

When I was little I read all the time. If I didn't have a new book (which was often) I would re-read the books in my house. One of my favorite things to read was a big old brown book of stories for children dealing with morals and how to be a good person. The stories inside were fairytale-ish, so it didn't seem like preaching to me, but they always ended with a moral or lesson of some sort. Kind of like Aesop's Fables, where messages saying "One Good Thing Deserves Another" appeared at the end of each tale. I remember sitting on my bed, my lamp burning a hole in the dark, and thinking "I need to work harder on being truthful" or "I need to make sure I'm nicer to everyone." I was genuinely affected by this and would make an effort the next day to BE GOOD. Not be good at writing. Not be good at math. Be good AS A PERSON.

I had forgotten that. In my efforts to be cool, worldly, or "more adult" in college (and even now) I hid away something that was very important to me. My heros became rough necks with guns or loners who could kick ass. I confused my admiration for their self confidence (of which I had none myself) as an admiration for their character traits- i.e. she's cool because she says "Son of a bitch!" and carries a big stick. I despised being called innocent and naive and thought cursing and toughness would cure me of my 'illness'.

What I was really doing was disguising what made me me because I thought "Me" wasn't cutting it.

I was wrong. I have been too concerned about the wrong things. The outside things. My success as a person isn't measured by how many films I've done- it's measured by how many people I've helped. By how understanding I am towards someone who is having a bad day, or how honest I can be with the people around me.

I listened to Peter and I was sad. I used to be good, but now I have a long way to go.




*sigh*

Depressing, right? Weird, because today wasn't an all around bad day... actually it was very good. I was sick so I got to stay home, and I spent some quality time with my roomies. I also continued writing the children's book I've been working on.

Oh- BTW- I'm working on a children's book. I didn't tell you before because I thought being excited about it would jinx the whole thing and I would stop working on it after a week, but I've been pretty good. I've been writing almost every day. My self-imposed due date is the end of Jan/early Feb, and the illustrations will be done in June. I'm shooting for Christmas/early 2008 release.

You know- now that I think about it I'm actually pretty happy. Don't get me wrong- I ran to the store and ate a whole carton of soy ice cream after the 'out of love' thing (and will probably be silently depressed for quite some time), but as a whole I think I'm pretty ok.

I guess I'm so happy about writing that even a broken heart can't completely destroy my joy. Random. I can see why guys find girl emotions so confusing.