I made this on October 9, 2011. The left side is what it looked like after I finished and hurriedly - and excitedly - took a grand shot of it with my phone.
To the right is what it looks like now on this day, November 30, 2013. It has worn down in the last two years; I have since neglected it after taking the original picture to show all my friends.
Every now and then, when I clean up my desk, I’ll see this to my left and I am reminded of how I have a tendency to create to impress instead of creating to create.
I’ve been tardy and unmotivated to go to work and therapy for the past couple of weeks. I’ve been feeling down. Used. Isolated. Ignored.
I love my job and like making money while having fun like everyone else, don’t get me wrong, but I cherish days where I can simply not work - not worry about what my supervisor wants to see on a website, no animating anything from scratch again because she didn’t like the placement of a single pixel, no answering of emails left and right - days where I actually have time for myself, my mother and sister, and for friends. In fact, I am typing this in bed on this rainy and dreary day when I should be running my eyes over poorly executed HTML code.
I should be making money, but I’m not. I should be happy and having fun on this free day, but I’m not. I gave myself free time to destroy myself - with myself.
I can’t wait until I lose everything.
Between the months of January to August, I met and got to know a guy named James. He had dark hair, hazel-green eyes, and a fit body; he was physically attractive and he knew that. He also knew I was interested in him. He also had a girlfriend. Her name was Nicole and she grilled me every time she saw me on campus, but I digress.
He shared his past, present, and future with me and continued to talk to me even on his trip to Florida with his girlfriend. I always wondered why he wouldn’t simply give me his phone number so we would be able to talk to one another easier. I missed him when he was busy and became elated every time he would respond to me. Apparently, he felt the same way.
We never got to be in the same room after a single night together, but we spoke, we laughed, and we eventually parted ways. He graduates at the end of this semester and has his full-time offer secured at KKR. I rarely see him now, being busy myself as well.
I bumped into him a couple of days back and felt the same elation I felt whenever I got to talk to him half a year ago. A smile would spread across my face and I would be nervous. Our hug felt close, it was right, and I felt every inch of his chest again as his hand slid slowly down my back. I could’ve torn off all his clothes at that point. Excuse me.
After that moment was distance. I’m aware that he has me wrapped around his finger and I’ve been told numerous times that he wouldn’t be good for me - being the flirt that he is. I feel bad for his on and off again girlfriend, but something may be wrong or missing if he went off to look for something in someone else.
I am not the other woman and never seek to destroy relationships, so I will admire from a distance and be the friend who will say hi, share drinks, and talk about life to. It’s what I usually end up becoming.
With a better paying internship that challenges and exercises my interest for design, art, and visual communication, I should be happier with where I am and where I am headed. I will be 22 soon, am a (super) senior in college, active on campus with extracurricular activities, a seemingly level head on my shoulders, a gym rat in progress and yet, I find myself vulnerable, exposed, and sobbing to a person who has no idea who I am but is paid to listen and offer their advice; to help me clear my mind.
There is something wrong with me.