it's 10:13 pm, on July 01, 2007 - -.
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re-reading the last few weeks of posts here, it occurs to me - I've abandoned even the slightest pretense of disguising my feelings and the identities of those I'm feeling them about. a far cry from the elaborate poetic code I once played with, but then, writing and poetry and metaphor are dead in my brain, they don't exist there anymore.
on a whim, and considering this weekend couldn't be worse, I googled Paris's full name. two of the results came from this diary, so I believe I'll, perhaps, remove his full name from those entries; other than mine, one came from The Paris Experiment, and one was a post on a Vancouver forum saying that they were looking for him, using his full name including his real first name, with at least one person who's replied with, "if you find him, let me know."
it has occurred to me, over the years, to try and track him down - I have a few ways, a few old contacts that might know - but all in all, some things are best left in the drawer they were shoved into. this is basically how I'm feeling about a lot of what's gone on in the last year, all the old anger and resentment, and all the new anger and resentment too. at this point, I'm just too tired of it all, and I just want to leave it all in the drawer I've desperately attempted to shove it.
this is, for better or worse, who and what I am. there isn't anything I can do to fix that because there's nothing at all to fix. I can just minimize my disappointment, and keep the things that make me crazy and enraged at arm's length. I spent at least five years of my life dedicated to Paris and his memory, even if it wasn't directly, even if it was just how knowing him flavoured everyone else I met, does still. well, I'm not playing that game this time around, even if it means giving up things I want. that's better than being stuck in the same place forever. and I know that eventually it'll work and I'll worm my way out of everyone's life, but until then, I have to confess, I'm feeling pretty impatient and helpless.
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I keep editing this entry, as if anyone is keeping up with me anymore - I might as well just add two or three entries a night, but it doesn't matter - but anyway. I just did something I should have thought of a while ago; went through and deleted everything to do with dexcon or travelling to Toronto from livejournal, including the entries about my first trip here.
a lot of people don't understand how I throw things out, delete things on a semi-regular basis, but it's very freeing. somehow, deleting the record of that trip feels like I-- released myself, maybe, at least a little bit, of the prison of sleeping on that white couch for one weekend a month. maybe it'll help.
~
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what would sith be nostalgic about anyway - November 24, 2015
moving truck dilemma - October 28, 2015
- - July 19, 2015
- - July 01, 2015
bruise - June 29, 2015
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