Sidewalk Stencil: Crying is OK here

I just watched the final episode of The Ultimate Merger, in which Omarosa picks no one because the one she fell in love with is married. Regardless of how much reality shows make me cringe, I know what it means to fall in love with the married one. It seems like an avoidable mistake, as if one could say, "That one's married; I shall not love him." But we are who we are, not who we are married to, so falling in love with him was remarkably easy, easy as...falling. And the heartbreak that followed, once it was finally realized that he would always be hers, that I never had a chance to begin with, is breathtaking. That's how my days are spent now, trying to catch my breath. Trying to come up with a reason to get out of bed, because all the reasons I had before, including my absolute delight at the chance of speaking to him, of holding his attention if only for a second, no longer apply.

So, that is what I've learned recently, that love does not discriminate, it has no respect for prior commitments, it cannot be maneuvered and manipulated, it simply...is, glorious in its conception, crushing in its demise.

Insomnia again

This question is eerily pertinent, since I was up all night (again). Okay, mostly all night. I did sleep between 3-4:30, when I was awakened by the sound of something sizzling. I jumped out of bed, thinking I'd forgotten to turn off the stove. But when I checked, it was nothing. What little chance I had at sleep had been ruined, though, until daylight hours.

I'm avoiding the question.

What typically keeps me awake is the fear that I will never awaken again. It has become increasingly strange to me to actually lie in bed waiting to fall unconscious. I used to think that while I slept, my spirit traveled. Now I'm not so sure there really is a separation between body and consciousness, which has heightened my fear, because if there is no separation, the whole entity dies at once. The fear is not so much of death as of nonexistence. Although, even as a rotting corpse we still exist, just not in the form we are consciously aware of. Conversely, I must admit that I find the idea of returning to the earth quite...tranquil. I just don't want it to take me by surprise. It's a type of paranoia, I suppose. I lay in bed reminding myself that I am still alive.

What else keeps me awake? Lately it's been worry about how my bills will get paid in September. I've started a mental triage of my utilities, deciding which I can live without. Truthfully it doesn't bother me as much as it should. I've always found a way and will continue to do so. I am Taryn, after all; much is expected of me. I also think of my life. What it is and what I intended it to be, and how the two came to be so vastly different. We live our lives as if we expect to be here for a long time, and I wonder if there is folly in that. I've been increasingly trying to focus on just being here, at this moment, without regard to a past that only exists in memory and a future that doesn't exist at all -- it is always the present, is it not?

The irony is that there have been times in my life when I've longed for death as fervently as I now fear it.

Not much different than I do now, actually. I was still 5'10", thinner, although I didn't appreciate that then. I had braces, the metal kind, not the invisalign that I would get as an adult. I tried to hide back then, too, using my clothes and my hair. I remember wearing this really big coat all the time. I was probably more beautiful than I would ever be again, but didn't believe it at the time. I read a ton of beauty magazines because I wanted to be a model. Everything I know about makeup I got from them. I hated high school with an unbridled passion. Long before I developed the sense that I was wrong somehow, something I continue to struggle with daily. My peers seemed superficial; my concern was getting into college. I had my whole life mapped out, and the only thing I managed to do from that intricate plan was get an education. The rest has fallen by the wayside. If I knew then what I know now, it's likely I would have dropped out an gone backpacking across Europe. I've no doubt I would have learned more from that than I would in any school. As I teacher I know that my job is tailored towards the mediocre. The smart kids, like I was, don't need teachers. They can do it with minimal guidance. That's about it...my teenage years in a nutshell.