gsnedders

Last night I came across something I wrote just over a year ago: oh how times have changed. No longer do I feel as I did then about anyone mentioned in what I wrote. Indeed, if you were to look at some of the descriptions of people in it and compare with how they are now you'd think I was mad describing them like I did. How people change…

Even if I look at myself a year ago, the difference is amazing. I was, even on a really basic level, far less depressed than I am now. Looking deeper, I was finally starting to consider if I was well enough to ask anyone out (a point perhaps made irrelevant by my cowardliness).

Around six months ago, I was starting to give up all hope of ever asking her₁ out, knowing that after eleven months of reaming I was just too scared of the slightest thing going wrong. I knew I had move on beyond her₁, and that my best hope of doing so was probably to divert my mind to her₂, who I already had a slight crush on. It was also around this time that my mood swings started to become increasingly frequent: back then, they had happened once or so every three months — now it is closer to one every fortnight.

Then, a month later, in May, so much happened. So much that I'm not yet mentally to talk about fully. So much that I could write about endlessly.

After the hellish month of May, four months ago, the effects of May continued to change things in my life. I finally, after fancying her₁ for over a year, moved on, though it was near the end of the month before she was fully out of my mind — to quote Catullus (in translation): It is hard to lay aside a long lasting love/It is difficult, but it must be done by you in some way or other/it is the one safety, this must be conquered by you/Just do it! Whether it is possible or impossible. I behave so differently around her₂. No longer am I so shy. No longer am I so cowardly. So much is different, yet so much the same.

Love,

Do you know what pain you cause me? I doubt you can even imagine how much I think about you. What is it that you do to me, to make me so weak and powerless? Am I more submissive around you? I think not, but I know one or two people think I am. Oh love, what must I do? What use is there in making any move towards will? Will you just reject me? Or will you wrap your arms around me? Oh how I yearn to be in your arms…

What must I do to myself to make myself stronger? Must I stop my continuous thoughts of you? Must I talk to you more and more? As I look down to the beach on the Isle of Wight, I dream of being with you, so pure does the water look. Nothing seems more idealistic than being with you.

Oh love, take me. Oh love, be with me. Oh love, love me.

You have no idea how much anxiety you cause me. You have no idea what being with you alone would mean to me. Please, take me. Just one tiny little hour. It's all it takes. Let me confess to you how much I love you. I want nothing in the world more than you. Help me, oh love.

Lustfully yours,

Geoffrey.

Below lies the unedited version of another passage written in my notebook today. Later I'll post an edited version for the sake of comparison.

Maybe I was too hopeful thinking I wasn't in any class with her₁. At least I should get more work done nowadays in classes with her₁. Also, I've made sure to not sit anywhere near her₁, partly because of our hatred, and partly to make sure beyond a doubt she₁ doesn't flirt with me ever again (as such attention would now be totally unwanted).

I didn't really like what she₁ did to me before, even at the time, as it was too blatantly obvious about what she₁ felt towards me to the people around us. There is little point in going over the past; it cannot be changed. I must think towards the future, for only that can be changed. Fuck the past. Fuck her₁. And sure as fuck not literally.

Yet I feel compelled to write about her₁, so it is down on paper, and others don't go through the same bullshit as I have.

she₁ seems to be changing though, changing back to the idiot she₁ used to be. Perhaps such changes of how she₁ looks merely reflect her₁ (assholish) personality better.

But why did I like her₁? she₁ used to look hot, but now she₁ looks stupid. she₁ used to be nice, but now she₁ causes me as much pain as possible. But why does she₁ do this? she₁ hates me. she₁ hates my cowardliness.

I must be strong. I must ask my new desire, her₂, out. I must not make these same mistakes again. Yet I fear I shall. I am too weak. I am too shy. I am too cowardly. I have no strength to act upon such desires. I have no hope. Yet I must try.

So, that bitch hates me. And for what reason? Because I'm too cowardly to ask her₁ out. Lust is nothing but stupidity. Thankfully my desire for her₁ started to go shortly before she₁ started hating me.

Maybe I am too shy. May I am too fucking cowardly. Maybe she₁ has a point. I'd've never asked her₁ out anyway. I'm hopeless. I truly shall never ask anyone out. Especially her₁, now.

But seeming she₁ fancied me, why didn't she₁ ask me instead of waiting and getting annoyed at my cowardliness? Is she₁ just as hopeless?

Why is that everyone I fancy ends up fancying me, then hating me?

But what if she₁ didn't fancy me? Why would she₁ touch me multiple times in sexually suggestive ways? Why would she₁ laugh when I speak to her₁ with what appears to be nervous laughter? Is my voice really that fucked up?

Regardless, I should move on from the past, move on from her₁. I have someone new to lust over. History says I won't ask her₂ out either, though…

I guess those lyrics really are true: "No sex, no drugs, no life, no love when it comes to today".