Dust Bunnies and Memories

It's that time of year that we all dread, yet some of us welcome it with open arms and a dust pan. Spring Cleaning is here, and along with it comes stress, mood swings, and long lost memories. Upon sorting through my childhood and teenage years, I recovered: a guitar (hardly ever used, but rescued in hopes that I will one day become a rock star), notes written from friends (filled with inside jokes that make me feel so out of the loop now, not understanding any of them), wallet-sized couple pictures (half of them from people I don't even talk to or like anymore), a couple knick knacks from my shallow elementary school days, broken relationships (which led to broken hearts), and two or three things that I feel I would actually use.

As I'm sitting here however (itchy from all the upturned dust), I can't help but to think about all these memories that I recovered. Over summer, when I was remodeling my room, I threw all of the junk that I couldn't care less for into my brother's old, vacant room. At the time I knew it was useless, yet I still was unable to part with it. Now, three seasons later, I still can't find the courage to throw my past away. I simply store it somewhere until I find the time and mindset to actually deal with it.

I guess in a sense there is no throwing away of my past. No matter how hard I try, I either end up not wanting to, or not being able to. I tried shoving it into a vacant room, but it's all still there. I could try moving away, but it would still be here. I could try giving it away, but it would still be there. Somewhere. It's like that shit we learned in chemistry. How matter is neither created nor destroyed. Not exactly the same concept...but close enough.

Meanwhile...

I've been thinking about how things just aren't the same anymore. I shouldn't be surprised, because it's not like I was expecting a smooth ride all the way, but I didn't expect this rocky stage to be filled with so much...apathy. Maybe it's just me. Maybe I really am the demanding little girl that he says I am. Maybe I do complain too much. I don't know, whatever the case is, I can't say or do anything about it because it would simply justify his points and make me look like a bitch. They say absence makes the heart grow fonder, but I'm sensing too much absence and not enough fondness.

I guess some of us just don't realize the time strain. Soon time will run out and in its place will be a huge distance. About eight hundred miles to be exact. I don't know. Maybe I should just let it be? Maybe I should cool off? Maybe I shouldn't care so much (I mean really, I'm the only one that does care). Maybe I should...give up?

Oh hell, I don't even know what I'm saying. I have a million thoughts running through my head and they all just morph into a huge cloud of confusion. But really, what the hell am I waiting around for? I feel like I'm trying for nothing. I feel empty and also that everything I have is empty. I hate being judged, but I can't help that. It just sucks to know that even the person you love is also judging you, critiquing your every action in hopes of making you into "a better human being". I feel like I'm not good enough.

Well if I'm not good enough at home, and I'm not good enough at school, and I'm not good enough for him than what the hell is the fucking point? What happened to those days when I was beautiful, smart, and funny? When there just wasn't enough of me for him, and he actually thought about me? I miss being cared about. I miss feeling safe, and knowing that I had a sense of belonging. What can I do though? I guess I have to understand that all things come and go, I better appreciate them while they're here cause they sure as hell aren't going to last.

Now I'm angry and hurt from dealing with apathy and...nothing. I hate nothing. It sucks because there's nothing to justify, and nothing to yell at. I'm hurt, I'm tired of crying myself to sleep. I realized that I get tired after I cry and today, I am exhausted.

But that might just be from all the spring cleaning. I should take a shower. I'm still itchy from being attacked by the dust bunnies. Of course when I'm uncomfortable I get cranky so that might just be it.

Fucking dust bunnies...