Dedicated to someone

A year ago today, you told me that you loved me, and I said the same. I was surprised that I was brave enough to admit it aloud to you and myself.

Now, you haven’t talked to me in several months, and denied me any access to reaching out. I was very depressed and confused about this at first, but I think I understand now. My love is very intense, as is my trust and reliance in you. It can be very intimidating and overwhelming. You cherish it sometimes, but other times it is too much for you to bear. You don’t have all the answers, you can’t mend the source of my upset into a tidy, compact package of resolution, and neither could I with your problems. But I admitted it. You sometimes get tongue-tied and feel neglected, but aren’t honest enough to admit when I intimidate you. I wish you could, and you worked on it for a while, but it seems you’ve given up once more. At least as it relates to me. I hope you can develop the decency to be transparent in all your other relationships.

The distance is also a pain. I’m sorry for seeking your captivation at unusual hours when you are unwilling to entertain my banter. Again, please tell me when you are uninterested in talking. I would understand.

I hope we meet again one day and are able to talk cordially and kindly like we used to. I know you want me to forget you and move on, but I still love you. But I recognize the burden my love may bring. I know it’s a lot to process, but please know that I don’t say it to pressure you into confronting it now. I just say it out of my heart. You, of course, are still unsure. You don’t seem to know where exactly you want to reside, what exactly you want your career to be, or how exactly you want to care for your emotional wellbeing. Please take some time to discover yourself. I love you always. Good luck and God bless you. Happy new year.

My deepest desires

Part of the Isolation Journals, Day 29. Prompt by Maggie Rogers.

Admittedly, I am an honest person, to an extent. I can be private and neglect to disclose some things, but I do believe I am nonetheless truthful. Still, my desires have shifted dramatically in the past month or so. At first, I wanted a job that would get me out of this boring house. While I still want that, I know it might not be attainable. My state is still at its peak in Covid 19, so more places are hiring remotely.

Further, I would really like a paying job in some editorial aspect. I did pitch this one story to several publications, one is interested, but they will not provide compensation, which I don’t always mind as long as my piece garners recognition. However, it has been difficult for me to focus on the topic which I proposed. Part of me is simply lackadaisical from dealing with a constant news cycle of mostly pandemic-related things, though another part of me does want to do it and might even be able to angle the story around our current affairs. I had written a few paragraphs and asked the editor for guidance, but surprisingly, while she writes very eloquent articles in her publication, her email correspondence is very brief and terse.

When considering how I feel today, I want this cloudy, numb mindset to seize. In some instances it had been helpful, as I’ve started to drop these pesky arguments with family much swifter, but often I feel like it’s negating my proactivity. I am behind on my unemployment claims, behind on my work search, behind on the novel I am reading, and behind on the classes I am taking through Coursera. They are two psychology classes I am taking for free to give me some feeling of progress. They are just for my own benefit really, as I am not on the certification track for either. The novel I am reading, by the way, is A Northern Light by Jennifer Connelly, an aspiring teenage journalist who assisted in uncovering a murder at the hotel where she works, based on a real-life crime in 1906.

I definitely wanted some routine, and I am grateful for the Isolation Journals for giving me that. The remainder of my wants will likely come in due time.