I don't wanna hurt anymore.
Stay in my arms if you dare,
Or must I imagine you there?
Don't walk away from me.
I have nothing, nothing, nothing
If I don't have you.

Clarice's status: Clarice had a great weekend with Tom :D

One bullet. Straight to my heart. Shot to a million pieces. I want to curl up under the covers, cry until there is literally no more fluid in my body, listen to sappy classic love songs and feel sorry for myself. I don't want to deal with my life now. I don't wanna stroll through a sea of contentedness and pretend that I don't ache in parts of my soul I can't even explain when I see a couple smile at each other. Who would have thought that emotional pain could cause such a real, tangible, physical pain. Ouch.
I just want him to be here.
I want to hear his voice.
I want to have a stare-off with him and break down in giggles because his love for me is so intense in his eyes and it makes me blush.
I want to tease him because his hands are making mine sweaty.
I want to fall in love with his bashful sweetness again.
I want to be back where I was two years ago. In love and on top of the world. Just for a time. Everything was perfect. Everything was right. It all seemed so certain. How could I know that in a month, my world would come crashing down? I would lose the love of my life. And hardly even know what happened. All of a sudden. Just like that.

I'm tired of saying that my status with the man I want to spend the rest of my life with is not even a relationship at this point. It's a commitment. I want my relationship back.

I'll think of you. And speak of you. And fail to understand how a perfect love can be confounded out of hand.

It's funny how something can be going on under the surface and you just go on with your life, never realizing that it's there. Today in Fundamentals, Norm was having us do basic vocal exercises, repeating the sound "hah" and feeling it ripple through our bodies and after a while, he had us express our emotion at the moment, whatever it was, through the "hah-hah". And I thought to myself, "I don't know what I'm feeling. Nothing, I guess. Tired? Sick? Slightly pissed at myself for staying up way too late last night?" Then it hit me. A sweeping cold wave of sadness, desolation, sheer loneliness. And it flew out of my mouth in "hah-hah" and tears welled up in my eyes.
And then the exercise ended and class went on. Class ended and we all went to lunch. I laughed, I joked. I ran off to watch Much Ado About Nothing with Sarah. And now I'm sitting here wondering what's going on with me. Because that underlying sadness I felt was undeniably real and it was undeniably there. But the happiness and contentment I feel is true and present at the same time. So was I just sad for a passing moment because I sat down and thought about it? Or is there a constant, subliminal sadness beneath everything I do and feel?
Anyway. That's that. That's what's on my mind.

Off to class.

Do you remember that song from The Swan Princess, Far Longer Than Forever? It's kind of a great song:
Far longer than forever, I swear that I'll be true.
I've made an everlasting vow to find a way to you.
Far longer than forever, like no love's ever known,
And with your love, I'll never be alone.
Interesting stuff. Just sort of popped into my head. Plus, Smith was talking about what men and women want in a marriage. Also pretty interesting: women want safety and security, men want a partnership. And it kind of got me thinking. Thinking about life and love, about being alone, about what I want and need.
To quote Down With Love, "I want what every woman wants: love and marriage!" And I do want that feeling of security. To just curl up and hide in his arms, safe from the world. And I can't have that yet. So for now, I have to be safe within myself. I have to be self-sufficient: something I was hoping I was done being. When everything in my life was going right and he was there beside me, I thought that I could let go. That I could be safe and protected in someone else's arms. That for once, standing alone on my own two feet wouldn't be what got me through the day. That I could be cherished and held for a change. And I was. And it was beautiful.
Then it was pulled out from under me. But I held out for when I would get it back. One year. Doable, certainly. And in the meantime, I cried. Cried and waited. And held on to the bits of love he had left me with and precariously balanced on them.
Then they dissolved, the last solid chunks in a stream of lava, ready to whisk me away to my doom at any given moment. And so, albeit against my will, those feet of mine grew back out underneath me, supporting me and once more closing up my tear ducts and the pathways to emotion.
And this is why I cry in movies. It's my release. It isn't my pain that I weep for. It's a safe way to let it out. It doesn't make me weak. It merely makes me sympathetic, empathetic, even. And that is infinitely better than "weeping for such a feeling loss."