0

Learn from me and don’t ever say you want to be invisible out loud. Trust me, no matter how shy you may be, no matter how scared you may be to take a risk, no matter how embarrassed you are, you don’t actually ever want to be invisible. Once you say it out loud, even if only as a joke, you’ll start to see just how many different ways you can be ignored, forgotten, and screwed over.

 

 

Advertisements
0

older and wiser really do go together…

My first reaction has been anger a lot lately and that is wrong. Wait, is there even such a thing as multiple reactions or are we limited to one reaction per situation? (Haha, I don’t know what I’m talking about anymore. Can you tell?) Anyway…I’ve noticed little things that didn’t bother me that much before now bother me so much, causing me to have a short fuse. Of course, I don’t have any examples because that’s how my brain works. Probably hours after I hit “publish” I’ll have this concrete example and be able to share my “aha!” moment, but this will be posted already so what’s the point, yeah? 😉 There’s no doubt I’m weird.

I thought about maybe I’m just losing my patience, like I’m just not as patient as I used to be. But I really don’t know the answer to my own question. I will say this though: I have become quicker to cut people out of my life who mess with me or don’t treat me right. I have a lower tolerance for people’s excuses, lies, and manipulation. (Which now thinking about it could all go under the category of manipulation, but I’ve been known to be redundant.) I think because of the experiences I have had I have become better at recognizing fake. I think I’ll take that over worrying about what people think of my short fuse.

2

Matt

Matt

When I got back from the Dominican Republic, all I wanted to do was escape again. Overwhelmed was putting it lightly. My brain was back to reality, but reality hadn’t set in. I was spacey, tired, sad, sleepy, confused, empty, guilty, giddy, happy, and nervous all rolled into one. My head hurt a little, but my brain couldn’t comprehend that pain. It was too distracted. Everyone wanted to know what I did there, how was it?, and no, beyond the bug bites and sunburn! Beach, a couple excursions, I said to some. I left out the buffets and unlimited drinks to some others. All I wanted to do was find out how the Orchestra was doing since he went. Am I allowed to feel giddy and happy in the midst of him being gone? I didn’t know then and I still don’t know now.

There is a tribute for him in his old chair, complete with his trumpet and a picture of him smiling with his dog. It is not the same without him physically present and I want to cry when I see it, only no tears slide down. I see my stand partner tearing up and all I can do is touch her arm lightly. I should hug her, I should say something wise, but I have nothing to offer except for that light touch. I am thinking of the last words I said to him and how I’m still in shock. “Thank you” seems not enough to express my gratitude for his presence, but I’m glad I got the chance to say it. Even one last time, unknowingly.

How unfair life really is, this short living, breathing beast that we must face every single day and yet never know how much longer we have left. It didn’t happen. He’s going to be back when it’s Orchestra time, not band only. It’s just going to be band only for a while. Orchestra welcomes me back, especially the string section, but I just feel guilty I went away to the Caribbean, where the sun and personal heartbreak is eight times stronger than anywhere else, while everyone else was left here to mourn, here to pray, here to have to come up with things to say to his parents, here to visit, and here to suffer in silence together.

Tonight I want to weep in the shower, except all that comes out is an inscrutable sound, like the start of a wail that was cut short by pure grief that wanted to hide. He’s gone and I didn’t say good-bye. I prayed, but I was too cowardly to really say good-bye. I have already gone through too much and I can’t go through another one. My brain is twisted. I am happy for the progression of my personal life, even though I’m afraid to really talk about it. This feeling mixed with loss is a confusing mess of emotions, an amalgam of fears I can’t chase away no matter how hard I go to work.