Christmas Day. Merry Christmas to you.
Wasn't feeling it this season.
Christmas seemed like an obligation to be observed, not a thing to be
celebrated. The scents, the tastes, the sights, the textures...that
tactile qualities were missing, the warm sensibilities, and so too
the spirit as well. I was happy with the way the tree turned out (the pic above doesn't capture the lights, at least 400 of them, red and white in equal measure),
and I watched a few movies with nostalgic ties to the season which
almost brought forward a sense of the holiday...but mostly it was a
non-starter.
Haven't been able to force myself draw.
Sketch, a little, but not draw. Depression has been manageable: present, binding, but it didn't
drag me back into the well. Day's not over yet, and there's still
New Year's Eve and January to go. My birthday.
I'm hoping to get hold of an external
hard drive, as a few people have said they might hook me up with one.
I don't know how that works, whether it will allow me to play DVDs
on my comp and get screen caps again. Screen caps are pending for
Pretty in Pink (bought a copy), Some Kind of Wonderful, and Weird
Science as I want to sketch or draw her appearances in them..
I'll get right to it – I didn't hear
from her. 2015 was my last shot, I got Dana's attention at the beginning of the year and the opportunity to finally be heard, now the year draws to a close and nothing has come of it. I dunno, maybe she has the same block that keeps her from
reaching out, maybe she's depressed...yeah, and maybe I'm making the
same damn excuses for her. Part of me wants to rail at her, to hope
something sinks in and hurts her feelings – I need very badly to
know whether she is capable of feeling anything. Thing is...if she's
looking in to read it, then the chances are she doesn't deserve to be
blamed. OTOH, if she really is that cold then it wouldn't register
with her anyway – she doesn't give a fuck if she's hurt someone.
Venting to release my grief is a bandage on a gut wound. I still
need to, it just won't help. Nothing ever changes.
Drawing upon my own experience, the
depression that kept me from writing to her for three years following
high school...because I could see not see myself clearly enough to
understand the problem, I could not explain it to anyone else.
Certainly not to her. That added to the restriction, because how
would she ever comprehend my avoidance of her? I was sure she
wouldn't forgive me. She did, once it lifted, but I had realized
that not only was I free to write to her but that what mattered more
was that I make the effort for my own sake. Either she would
understand or not, at least I finally did myself. It would be out
there and no longer on me but up to her whether to respond.
From that, I would want her to know
that I am not sitting here with a million questions she's required to
answer. I just want to hear her tell me that she still thinks of me
as a friend. As much as I want to know her story, as much of it as
she can tell me, it matters only to have her friendship back. It
means more to me that she might want to share her story with
me than that I have explanations. Justifications aren't important.
She is.
I would also have her know that if she
thinks she's doing me any favors by keeping her silence, she couldn't
be more wrong. I meant what I said before, that she has nothing to
apologize for over what occurred between us. It's what she chooses
now that matters...if she remains silent of her own volition now,
it's the one thing I will never forgive her for.
