time goes by

A month from now, this will all be a month ago.

In the meantime, I have to deal with it.

Maybe it's a sign of the troubled times we live in, maybe it's some subconsious thing on my part, or maybe it's just God's warped sense of humour, but somehow, today, in an effort to distract myself from the noise between my ears, I dragged myself to the gym.

The irony of it all is just overwhelming. So overpowering, in fact, that I had to laugh. It means more when you consider how many tears there have been in the last few days.

I guess it's also pretty funny (and ingenious... and a little nerdy, too) that I'm implementing everything I ever learned in psychology to get through the day.

Walking around with a pen in my mouth to stimulate the facial muscles responsible for laughter in an attempt to trick my brain into thinking I'm happy (feedback from your muscles tells your brain "You're smiling" and your brain thinks "If I'm smiling, it must mean I'm happy" so you start feeling happier). I didn't consciously think "Hey, here's an idea!", but I was walking around at work auditing the jean wall and I had to keep a pen around to write things down with every two seconds, but I also had to have my hands free much of the time to fold the jeans. Anyway, apparently I thought it'd be attractive to put the pen in my mouth. I don't know why I'm typing this, but I am. And now I'm not going back to delete it. Anyway, I noticed it afterwards and figured that I'd inadvertently probably figured out a way to elevate my mood, remembering this study from psych. So then I thought "Well there's an idea!" and started repeating "I'm fine" in my head, because everyone knows that if you repeat something enough, you begin to believe it's true. I even did some homework so that I wouldn't have to deal with the stuff of real life.

You know... the stuff that makes you not sleep and not eat and not smile without trying really, really hard. You know, that stuff.

At Yoga, the dude made us pretend we were baboons and punch our mats while chanting a mantra. He kept telling us to hit harder, and I thought I was until he said "pretend you're hitting someone you're really angry with". That's when I got truly into it because there are a few people I'm pretty angry with right about now, so it really wasn't that much of a stretch for my imagination.

I know the decision was right. I know I deserve 100%. I know that I was unhappy for a while, and denying it.

I also now know that giving someone or something your all sometimes just isn't enough. And that liking someone isn't all you need. And that both people have to want something, but beyond that, that both people have to work at it, because wishing alone doesn't get you anywhere.

I know that this is the end of the road, and yet, this stupid (retarded, really) small part of me still hopes it isn't. Hope is hard to kill. And believe me, more then anything else perhaps, I just wish it would fuck off and die already.

I know a month from now, I'll look back and wonder why it was so hard, (my memory is shit like that,) but I still can't help feeling that coming up with a month's worth of distraction and psychological ploys and rationalization to get yourself normal is quite the task.

Plus, despite it all, or maybe because of it all, I still refuse to believe that that was all it could've been.
We could've been so, so much more.

But, and there's always a but, it turns out I do have a hobby. It's talking about and writing about and thinking about what's bugging me...

I'd just run out of material for a while there.