Sleeping Rough

(That's the title of a Berhard Fanning song. Yes, it is my first impulse to use song titles and/or lyrics... for much of my communication, not just blog headings.)

Speaking of communication through music, I made J a mixtape. It's just my thing, I guess. I've always communicated through music-- when I say that the first thing that crops up is listening to Cartel on my bed with JB while the sun was rising again, just sitting there and feeling lost and found simultaneously. Every time I hear "If I fail" I think of that night/those days where it finally came together and what it means that it happened. Whether I was wrong to what I did, whether I regret it (which I was, but only because I didn't break up with JF before; and which I don't. Not a whit. [Hi, JB! *blush*])
The next scene that presents itself is sitting in the car with A, on our way to work, with Ben Lee or Bright Eyes or the Shins or the Knife playing-- all of those songs that we communicated in on those awkward and wonderful rides. A's the only other person that I've ever met that communicates in music quite like I do, and we had uncanny coincidences in our music tastes (Powderfinger, the Knife [beyond just Heartbeats]) I wasn't sure of it at the time, but I think that was a pretty awesome mixtape that I made. (Lord knows I've listened to it enough.)
The mix I made for J is not my best, I'm ashamed to admit-- there's much that I forgot to put on there, and the song order's a little iffy. I blame that on my procrastination, though I'd been compiling potential songs for a long time. It's not bad, though. The cover art was fun, too (physics calculations as a base, a leaf sewed on, my usual melted crayons, magnetic poetry, etc.)
With A and J, I know that on some level the making of a mixtape was to allow some sort of feeling of closure-- not necessarily an ending, but something that I'd done to let them know that I'd thought of them. I don't know why I never did that for JB (though I'm working on one now). Maybe it has something to do with not feeling like I really could without being found out (it's not like JF didn't use my computer almost every time he came over) and not feeling like I had a whole lot of music that he didn't already know. That's less of a challenge now, since I've been away so long, but there's still the impulse to put songs I associate with our times together (EMO.) So when I go in May, it should be finished.

*sigh* I guess I'll get to the actual (recent) personal blogging I wanted to do now.

Sunday was a strange day-- woke up to huge snowflakes wafting down (on the 1st of March. In Georgia. I know.) I went to Waffle House for the first time (not all that impressed, but I also wasn't in the mood for anything sweet, and I'm spoiled in terms of my cheese tastes. Not to mention dairy still doesn't sit wonderfully with my stomach. It was more about the company, though.) Then, at night, my first time going to a lesbian bar... being mesmerized by burlesque, laughing hard, being awkward (in a way I do oh so well), dancing, getting a free spanking doled out by a roller derby girl (with the anorexic cousin of a cricket bat) [first for this, too, and I enjoyed it more than I thought I would-- that is to say, rather a lot.] Then to S's futon to help J pack and fall asleep with him and SS. Odd is the best way to sum it all up. Weird and wild and wonderful... and also fringed with poignancy, with a sense of sad inevitability that something important was going to change.

I woke up on Monday morning without an alarm. I did some sad-eyed staring and, as the time to go to class crept up on me fast, I dressed myself and tossed the mixtape onto the bed. I had wanted to give it to him in a better way, but that's all I could bear to do: plop it down and turn my head away as I started to cry. I wanted to run away and cling to him simultaneously. I hate goodbyes. I felt (and feel) bad for feeling sad, since there are happy aspects of him leaving (at least, for him), so it feels selfish to just be sad. I am excited for him, too... but at that time, sadness was primary in my consideration. I didn't say the word 'goodbye', I couldn't do it. Especially because I'd like to pretend/hope there's a chance we'll get to see each other sometime. But in reality, I should have said it, because it will never be quite what it was. Nothing ever is-- I'm not saying that to be melodramatic, it's just true. Time and experiences change a person so much, even from moment to moment. Maybe next time it will be even better, who knows? There's no way to determine that. But we were saying goodbye to something that was then, who we were at that time. Perhaps someday we'll say hello to what we are in the future. Considering my past with saying 'see you later' to people that I'm attached to (A and JB, for example), I'm not hedging my bets (it's been 1 year and 8 months since I've seen JB, 8 months since I've seen A.)
The past few days have been a little numb. I've been distracting myself with studying for my bio test for the most part. I don't quite know what my full reaction is yet, since I've been bottling it (unhealthy, I know, but since when have I been the poster child for good health?) Spring break is next week. I'll have extra time to think about it, which is both good and bad. I have no plans except to take care of H's cat, catch up on schoolwork, and possibly go to Dahloniga for a meditation/yoga thing with JP and M.

Speaking of yoga and mediation, I really need to write Ju and explain some things. I really don't want to, though.

And while I'm on the topic of men I don't want to speak to, JF is pissing me off royally. I can't believe that I spent almost 3 years of my life with someone that is so narrow-minded, so didactic in tone, so unable to listen to me, so condescending. He expects us to get back together when I visit, despite my many explanations to him that I was not happy in our relationship in the end. He seems to still think that it all ended because I moved away, ignores the whole JB thing as if it was just a glitch, as if I had said it was a mistake (which I never did. I said I was sorry for hurting him, but not for what I did.) I'm about tired of his self-centered bullcrap, especially his expectation that he should be "the most important person in England" for me. He even got pouty that I was staying with AB. Those are the very traits that I despair of in my brother's wife. I'm not going to just sit back anymore. He always talks to me as if the way I am now is somehow beneath him, like I've become some degenerate. *deep breaths* Ok, I'm done.

I'm going to go read Watchmen.