One of my favourite literary heroines ever was always Charles Dicken's Estella. (Great Expectations)
I long aspired to be like her. She was the epitome of everything i ever desired to be. Cold, Rich, Beautiful...Heartless. In other words, she fits the modern day definition of a "B-i-a-t-c-h" . Estella never gets hurt, because she does not have a heart that is capable of feeling, of emotions. She is never moved by love. Because she dosen't have the capabolity to appreciate it. That, in itself might not be a bad thing, because it minimizes the possibilities of her getting hurt. She has men wrapped around her little finger, men who's hearts she will shatter, but she is never once touched. It is not so much the heartlessness that i admire, but its the fact that she will never ever feel the pain that comes with love. And that in itself, is rare.
I used to care for someone, and i never got round to telling him how i truly felt. To him, i was his everything. He cared so much for me. Sending me home, telling me how he felt. I truly had him around my finger. But i was afraid of getting hurt by him, so afraid, i never let on how i felt truly...just so not to appear vulnerable, and i was deliberately mean towards him. I watched him suffer, suffer so much pain, because of my silly actions. And now he is gone, gone so far away.
I never knew how to treasure someone that cared for me greatly.
and now he is gone
And now, i may be starting to care for someone else, that may never be able to truly treasure me.
It was great pretending that i could be an Estella. And he was my Pip. We were both characters in my own self-written novel. Deliberately tormenting him, but yet i honestly did truly care for him, much more then i ever would care to admit. But its already too late. Like he said two days ago...
" Its possible between the two of us again in future, but its not plausible, don't you get it?"
and i do, because my actions have caused him great grief.
i played at being Estella but i only ended up hurting myself even more.
And now he is lost to me forever. And we both know we can't ever be together again, because its just not the same anymore. And i miss the feeling, of exhileration, the irrational, unexplainable feeling of intense happiness, the giggly school-girl feeling, the thrill, the excitment, and the feeling of being cared for by someone. And i hate to admit this, but i miss this feeling, i miss this, i miss this, i miss him. But who can i blame? only myself?
But now, ive meet someone new, but can never truly move on. Why? Because just like me, he is similarly bogged down by his past, perhaps far worse then i am. He does care for me, but sometimes it only feels like a half hearted attempt. I can't blame him for that. Ironically, he has been one of the rare few guys, ive actually been so honest with. And its ironic, because despite this honesty, with both know the same rule applies here. Its POSSIBLE, but its not plausible.
But im still hanging out with him, going out with him, even though its against my better judgement, And even in my heart, i know, i know, there can never be a good ending, but yet i still go foward. Till i hit a wall, and blackout. Then maybe someday the tears will follow.
And yet the more im with him, the deeper i sink. And ive already sunk so deep, that i jus don't know how to pull myself out. And its exactly the same for him. The more he is with me, the deeper he feels he sinks.
And you know what's worse? We both kinda like the feeling of sinking. That the worst part!
We were at the playground yesterday. And i liken the whole situation to a swing. It's fun when we are on it, but after a while its pointless, because a swing always moves up and down, and its pointless, because it always remains at the same spot. You go up, but eventually u still come back down. And like a merry-go-round, a carousel, and the ferris wheel, you go round, and round and round, but eventually u still come back to the same spot. Its whimisical, yes, its pretty, its fun, but ultimately you know that there IS NO destination.
And i keep telling myself, honestly that i have to keep away. But how can i? like a child that is let loose on the playground, i take many rides, i swing faster, i go higher, i go round and round, and round, and i just can't stop myself
Both you, and i, are frozen in time
And perhaps will always remain so.