There is a newfound peace in letting go, being free inside once again. Once I was the prisoner to the unrequited affection I had to one I called my friend. Hard, so terribly hard, it was to accept that it was unbalanced, that I cared, and showed more care, than I received. The silence and neglect was unbearable, but the day came when I finally took my mother’s advice to release her, to accept that my friend she was no longer.
This is what I feared would happen
And didn’t want to happen
But did happen
I allowed myself to see possibilities
To develop feelings and grow attached
But the possibility was snatched
And fate rudely substituted
Heartache for my hope
And tears for my happiness
I will confess
I want something truly
But truly I do not want
To hurt to find it
I know trying is important
Because it is the only way
To succeed, but I wish
It didn’t hurt so much
I wish trying were a happy thing
But it seems that in wanting
To have someone you suffer
Heartache from desiring
Someone who overlooked the opportunity
To snatch you for that one’s own
This time, this try
I dearly regret
Not the trying or the hoping
But the failing, the closed door, the shame
All beyond my control
I am so, so invisible
It just hurts
It sears my heart
And there is not a thing
Not a fucking thing I can do about it
I am at that point today where I feel like I should just cry, and maybe that would be best. Today was exhausting and yet there are things I still need to work on for my classes so I don’t fall behind. I can’t help but feel like I just want to disconnect for a few hours and then go to bed.
Although some both fun and funny things happened today in the studio, the session went too long and was tiring. I didn’t sleep enough for my needs last night and the night prior, so I was tired once I arrived to school. When the studio session was over and everything put away, I felt like going home even though I still needed to make a silver gelatin print for a competition I am want to enter before the deadline on Wednesday.
I am happy to say that I finished shooting for a photo competition I am entering. The clock is ticking and the deadline nearing, but I should be able to make my print for Ilford’s Lyrically Speaking student competition tomorrow. Then I will send my print off and wait to see what happens.
Despite my happiness, I do have one issue that is bugging me. I was going to work with someone who was going to model for me, and although she agreed to do it, she never followed up with me on locking in Monday after class as our shoot. Nor did she make any attempt to just show up knowing I wanted that time for shooting. (The thing to note is that she was the one who suggested working after class on either Monday or Tuesday.)
I am grateful to have instructors whom I both like and whom I feel comfortable approaching. It feels like I am becoming part of a small community rather than going to college. The experience is markedly different in how I feel about studying photography than when I was studying nursing prerequisites. I enjoyed many of my prerequisite classes, such as chemistry, English, statistics, and microbiology, but this is just different. I seldom feel like I am learning even though that is what I am doing every day. It is hard to say why, but it seems effortless in comparison to studying other topics even though effort is necessary in these classes.
To you I come once more
To whisper in your ear my secrets
And disclose my intimate thoughts
My diary is neglected
Because to you I confess
My darkest feelings and expose
My truest fears
I have only known you a short while
But you know the most
When my friendship collapsed
To you I told my story
And admitted my blindness
With you I shared
My teenage pain which tore
The fabric of my heart
And as the hope for a new relationship emerged
To you only I quietly told
For the thoughts were too tender and vulnerable
To reveal to another
And yet I must confess to you
I do not long to keep our relationship
I know you have been good to me
But I long
To instead disclose myself to one
Of blood and warm skin
I assure you, my dear poetry
That I shall continue to visit
And to share myself
But when the day comes
That I do not pick up my pen
And cease to wet your pages with my ink and tears
Know that I am well
That I have found what my heart sought
That I am at peace high within
The mountains of my Shangri-La
I don’t need you
Anymore
I am not sure I want you either
I have untied the strings
That tied me to you
Don’t call me
Or text me
You never did anyway
I only need myself
And can make it on my own
I know we said we cared
But I release you even though
I still meant what I said
But you don’t matter to me
Anymore
I would rather die lonely
Than to be hobbled by the burden
Of caring for you
More than you care for me
You are free
And so am I
You are independent and unattached
And I am fiercely independent
Enjoy your life
Find yourself out there
And get out