08/02/00 -- The Wanting is the Worst Part
"And she wanted more than she ever could say..."
I think the wanting is the worst part of my life right now.
It's worse than Christmas as a kid, because then I could cheat, could see if what I wanted
so desperately was wrapped up somehow, somewhere, hidden in a closet or in the garage or
under the bed.
The wanting, now, isn't like that. I can't look through
corners of wrapping paper, or slice through it with a little razor, peek, then fold and
tape carefully.
I'm living in a NIN song. o/~ I just want something I can
never have. o/~ Or in the Susanne Vega song that's the sub-heading for this journal
entry. But unlike in Vega's song, I'm not turning away. I keep looking.
Prodding. Poking. Reminding myself it's there.
It's a wanting that's stupid. Pointless. Painful.
Dare I call it tragic? No, tragic might dignify it, might make it worth
having, worth doing. And it isn't. It's wanting something that I can't have,
knowing I can't have it, and wanting it anyway. It's wanting something I can't talk
about. Or shouldn't talk about. Something I miss desperately without having
even touched it, or only having touched it for the tiniest moment.
It's a wanting that takes hold of me when I'm quiet, when I think
I'm alone, when no one is watching me. It grabs me hard and twists me, turns me into
someone I thought I'd left behind, someone who isn't in control anymore, who wasn't ever
in control. Like Jeckel and Hyde only worse. And I don't know which of the two
of them I turn into. Or which I am normally. I only see myself, then,
when nothing made sense. When I wanted stupid things.
Like I do now. Again.
It's a wanting that makes me cry even when I'm not alone.
Even when people are around. When they might see. And wonder. And
ask questions I can't answer. Won't answer. And if I did, the answers wouldn't
work for the people asking.
Like this journal entry isn't working.
Because I'm not saying more than I'm saying.
Worse than at Clarion.
And if none of this makes sense to you, don't worry; it probably
shouldn't. If it does, then I probably should worry, because it
probably shouldn't.