For An Angel

I feel better now. No, that’s a lie. I feel just as strange as I did earlier, I’m just less crazy. I think the lack of food might have contributed to my overall breakdown tonight.

There’s a few things I need to get out of the way before I really get into some of the stuff I figured out.

1. I’m typing this on Matt’s computer because mine is at home, and I’m not.

2. I have no plans to go back there today, nor do I plan on going anywhere with anyone. I need time to meditate, to relax, and to think.

3. I am trying really hard not to be unreasonable, but with everything just continuing to pile on, I think that tonight was really the last straw.

For the people in my life who are important enough to make me crazy: I have a list of things I’d like from each of you and some things to tell you. I’ll never have the courage to write this or say this to any of you. I wouldn’t even write it here if I thought anyone who I’m writing to actually read my blog.

Daddy: I want you to be supportive, to be there for me for once in your life. I want you to realize that money is not love, and that no matter how much of it you throw at me, all I’ll really want is a hug from you, or even the smallest sign that you care. It doesn’t end there. I know you work hard, and that requires you to travel a lot, but you can’t come back from years of being away and expect a relationship. It just isn’t going to happen. I’d like to take this chance to remind you that I’m only 20 years old. I know you were conquering the world when you were my age, but daddy, I’m not you. I’m pretty sure that no matter what I do, it’ll never be good enough for you. I thought I had dealt with it but now I realize that maybe the way things are with you and me have never been healthy. Well, just maybe, that’s starting to make me too stressed for my own good. I recognize that the chance of any of this getting to you is slim to none, but in writing this, I’ve let it go. We’ll never have a normal relationship and that’s ok. I don’t want to grow up to be like you. Sure, you’ve done well for yourself, but at the end of the day, I’d rather be surrounded by people who actually like me, who will support me. Don’t even get me started on the way you are with mom. That’s a can of worms I simply don’t have the energy to open. All in all, you have your methods and I have mine. I’ll never be the perfect kid you expect. I might as well be honest, I’ll never be the perfect son you’ve always wanted. I’m sorry that I’m not pretty enough or not thin enough or not smart enough, or don’t have enough trophies or whatever it is you’re hung up on. Most of all, I’m sorry I let you get to me.

Mom: From you, I don’t think I have to ask for support. You’ve always supported me. I know you want me to be more practical, and not to make some of the mistakes you did, but you do push too hard sometimes. From you, mom, I want you to let go. You can’t always be there, looking over my shoulder. Sometimes you can be unreasonable, but seeing as how you have to live with dad, I don’t see how that can be avoided. I don’t have as much to say to you, but give me some credit. And give me some space.

Logically, Lisa or Dima or Trent or Josh or Andrew or Garrett should come next, but of course, next is Matt.

Matthew: With you, it’s hard to begin. For the most part, everything is great. What I want to say to you is a little different than what I have to say to anyone else. There’s only so much I can ask for specifically. I want a dance. A spontaneous, romantic moment. A stupid pet name or a silly gesture. I want some indication. I’m not talking about a full blown declaration of your love or some grand sweeping gesture. I’m talking about a sign that you’re all in. That this isn’t just something to be entertained with until something better comes along. Yes I know that’s silly but sometimes that’s how I feel. Is it just me or is romance really not your strong suit? I don’t feel like I ask for much in a relationship, especially this one. What I’m missing isn’t something that can be easily explained or changed. It’s not just an action. It’s a way of reaction. It’s not something you can change once you’re asked. It’s just…that’s what makes it so hard. We really do need to sit down and talk about it. They’re not just words to me, you know. They’re especially not easy words to say. After everything, I really just want to feel like I’m special. There’s so much more to say, but I can’t say it here or now. It’ll just have to wait until I see you.

My last one for tonight:

Trenton: I can only ask one thing of you T. Just stop it. You know you’re not helping. I’ve already said everything I need to say to you.

because I absolutely just lost it tonight. I suppose it’s my own fault…but somehow I can’t help it. I don’t even know if I have coherent words to type, but the need to say something to SOMEONE is just so strong I can’t resist. I absolutely hate that I can’t turn to anyone…not for a lack of trying but mostly because there’s …no one and nothing.

They keep coming. I can’t stop. If I keep this up, I’m bound to go blind. I took me four hours to make an hour drive. BECAUSE I COULDN’T SEE…I’m so ridiculous. What on Earth made me think that this time was going to be different? Was it temporary insanity? Now, once again, I’m completely lost.

I hate that you can do this to me. I really do.

I realized today that I can not relate to other people in terms other than food, dance, and music.  When someone I love is sad, I cook to make it go away.  I sit there, and I think about the music that would make them happy.  Other than that, I have no idea what I can offer.  To me, slaving away in the kitchen from morning till evening for that perfect seared scallop is love.  Spending time, and energy, and putting myself into the food I make is love.  To me, singing on the beach, even if you can’t hear me, that’s love.  I understand the tears that come from putting of myself into my music.  I can relate to people who sweat, cry and bleed to dance.  But to be able to translate that last note, the perfect pirouette, six hour eggs, or my Merlot reduction sauce into real live emotional connection is something I have problems doing.  I have no idea how to begin backtracking or how to relearn to relate to people.  I don’t know what the point would be, but I feel like I need to try harder.  I have so many thoughts, but, I’m pretty sure the only people who are reading this are T, K and on the odd day, Liz.

but one of them, is standing on that South Terrace of the Getty Center, and being kissed like you mean to do it forever.  My place, my own little corner, on a nice breezy warm day, with a pitcher of iced tea, and a stack of books taller than most toddlers comes in close second.  I like the view from the alcove in La Jolla, and I like hiding under the benches.  That spot for lunch off by the UCSD campus, near the hang gliders, and that amazing place off the side of the road up by Soldad St.

There’s nothing better, however, than sitting on that swing in the old Arcadia backyard and just thinking about stuff.

Some of these places are the most romantic.  Some are not.  All I …nevermind.  I have nothing left to say…