In a Word

It's late and my head hurts right behind both eyes, as if I'd been squinting at the sun for too long, which would imply a nice day out, which in turn makes me sad because I would have loved loved loved a nice day out for a change. But I didn't enjoy the weather because I was trying to catch up on some sleep, hell I didn't enjoy the entire summer because I've been trying to catch up on sleep and housework and clearing the emotional wreckage from my teeny tiny bubble of a brain. Actually, I think it's more like emotional cobwebs, because it's disastrously messed up in there, but in a sticky, and not so much bulky sort of way. Though I would also describe it as heavy and cumbersome, so maybe like a moldy old box of papers and books you always said you were going to read (but never did and then they got wet when the basement flooded and now it's too late) covered in cobwebs and some rubber cement that spilled and is sticking it to the floor and the other boxes and also this box is wedged in under something else like a huge f*cking tank that plowed through the garage door and then contained an explosion inside itself but dropped some tank bits and pieces inside your garage and melted a little anyways. Something like that. Hmmm maybe I'm the tank.

Anyways, my head hurts because I'm trying to define how I feel right now, post-rejection. I've been rejected for the 23rd time or so now by the same person, but this time feels a bit closer to home, a bit more final, and just a bit... more like rejection I guess. But since there are so many different forms of rejection that we stick under the same hat, I'm trying to keep my dignity intact and my heart from breaking right out of my chest by focusing on how to define what rejection makes us feel, really. Which feeling is that 'rejected' feeling (how much do you wish there was a song that went 'you've lost that rejected feeling' right now, huh?? :P).

Mainly I'm reeling I guess, shell-shocked, so I suppose that's where the tank imagery popped in from, but I'm somewhat bored with those terms, even though they're apt. "But I'm an original," my ego is shouting. "But I'm unique," my education is haughtily reminding me. "But I thought I was special," my heart is quietly hiccuping to itself in that salty watered down sort of style hearts will have in these situations...

Given the flush of my cheeks and the hotheaded need to do something rash, anything to react and provoke really, I guess if I'm honest the only thing I'm really feeling at the core is humiliated. Embarrassed to be me right now, wanting to erase this puny little girl who was not able to make someone else love her back, who couldn't even get him to speak to her as if she was a proper person and not some sub-form of human that he has come to see her as (everyone, say a quick hello to self-pity, we're old old friends). I think being disregarded by another person must be the worst form of rejection, at least for our psyches (or just mine?), because if they're taking their anger out on you then at least that means you still have some influence over their emotions, so in a twisted way, they still care. A little. LOL (<- laughing at myself and the crap I spout sometimes).

Ok, so that argument makes no sense (abusive relationships e.g.), but when someone claims to love you and then walks away without stopping no matter what you say or ask or whisper, then their indifference marks them as the undefeated one. And I think what I feel now is defeated and that is making me angry and that's why I'm hurt. So I'm humiliated by the rejection and now that I've written this I'm humiliated by my own reaction and the pain that comes with self-awareness. How humiliating and how tiresome. Time to put a cork in it and catch up on that sleep.

<3