Monday, 16 January 2012

This would be a lot easier...

if she wasn't so beautiful.

She has an odd kind of beauty, and dazzling eyes. It's hard not to fall in love with her. Her wildly curly hair, French accent (even though its all in my head), and photographs make it very hard not to be jealous. Her name is Camille Makachian. She lives in Paris, France and holds the heart of the man I think I love.

I don't believe in love, but                   is the most amazing human being I have ever met. He is kind and generous and loving and cute and wonderful in every way. Except, he hates me. This is a fact I'm prone to obsess over, to the point where I fake sleep just to listen to him talk. There's just something inside me. I cant do it. I get scared and nervous and cannot talk. Its so painful to have all these things to say and not have the courage to open my mouth and say them. They sit on the tip of my tongue, waiting to fall out into the world. I hold them back with all my might. He would never love someone like me. A coward.
A scardy cat.

He was talking to my friend Rosa, who has a nack for talking to people I cant. I fought with every fibre of my being that night. I was fighting to stay awake. I just wanted to hear him talk. Just the sound of his voice makes my heart beat faster and the blood rush to my cheeks. No. Calm down. They cannot know I'm awake. They spoke for about three hours, life, love, the universe and everything. I long for him to be able to talk to me like that. That's how I know he loves her. I was eavs dropping on their conversation. Also, he's flying to France to see her.

I can't stand it.
How am I going to live this year. We'll be barely a 5 minute walk from each other and probably see a lot of each other. I can't.

Posted by magneticmuppets
Like the immune system rejects its own tissues in the suffering of an autoimmune disease, we, as humans, reject secrets.

Secrets are like autoimmune diseases. They are raised from a part of you, from your own substance. By some fluke or twisted, unexplainable process, you identify secrets as alien and a threat. Involuntarily, and despite your best efforts, you’ll push them away because you do not want them living inside you. Secrets begin to adopt the characteristics of an infection; your mind is cast in the role of unsuspecting host and the pathogen-like secrets slowly infect, weaken and eventually destroy you.

You could take it out, operate, forcibly remove and release the secret. But what if the secret represents a fundamental and necessary portion of you? And what if it is a donated organ that isn’t yours but needs to live inside you anyway?

The only way to treat a secret or autoimmune response it is to suppress it. To take medication to quiet your immune system’s response and leave the tissue there, although you may suffer side effects. To drown the secret under distractions and trick your mind into believing it belongs there, although it may cost you dearly.
The only way to keep going is to embrace your disease.

I'm not going to tell him, it's not worth it and it just hurts to think about.
I will not tell him.

Kathryn What?