I want my own Roger Federer.
written: 11:28 p.m. on Wednesday, Oct. 22, 2008
I FUCKING GIVE UP. I'll register on Friday in school, and I'll look for articles tomorrow. I have some now anyway that I can start with so whatever.
Since I'm on the topic of school and whatnot: I'm guessing I'm not limiting my Burma paper to the cyclone crisis. 'Cause, yeah, nothing much to talk about there. Actually, I can sum everything up with one sentence: "I agree with everything that Gareth Evans said in his Guardian op-ed." Can't I just submit the op-ed? Why can't I just submit the op-ed? I'm so lazy to write my paper.
In other news, I'm guessing my period's around the corner. I can't explain the sudden weepiness I'm feeling tonight otherwise. I'm so irritated with myself at times like these because all my weaknesses and vulnerabilities are exposed and I'd much rather sweep everything under the rug at worst and pretend they're not there, or if we're being optimistic, be convicted in the security of my confidence, self-belief, yada yada yada. I can't even list it right now 'cause the foundation is shaken once more. And I wish it would stop.
It's just been way too long. Way too long. Way too fucking long. I've always been afraid of ghosts, and now I finally know why. They creep up on you and haunt you when you least expect it; they're always there even when you can't see them. They are around, all the time, all-seeing, omniscient, malevolent.
"And you know, Simon is right, and simultaneously, not so much, because you can't put a quantity on how much things hurt you. There are things that end up scarring you for life and you can't say that it's no longer relevant or immediate enough for it to keep hurting. And there's no reproach to be made, you shouldn't feel inadequate or useless, because while objectively it is about time and the tired fighter in you whole-heartedly feels that it is about time, how you feel isn't measured by days and weeks and months. And so there's no use in saying that it's been x number of months, or that it's been x number of years, or that it's been x number of weeks; there's no use in saying anything at all."
I wrote that paragraph a little bit more than a year ago. I fully believed it then. Now, I don't anymore.
It has been too long. It's no longer immediate enough for it to keep hurting. I have to stop making excuses for myself, stop indulging in these useless self-pity trips, I have to suck it up and keep on trucking.
Whatever. I don't know. I don't care. I admit, I lost. I don't want to fight anymore. I can't come back from love-forty to hold serve because I have nothing left in me anymore. No will to fight. No drive to fight. I give up, I give up, you win.
At times like now I desperately want a lobotomy, or something to help me forget. Something is tragically wrong if an event from more than a year ago (I don't even know precisely how long ago; I don't keep track anymore. All I know that it's been damn fucking long) is still capable of making me cry.
*
If anyone can tell me how Roger Federer stays with the same woman for eight years, ever since he was 19, and it's his first serious relationship to boot, I promise I'll pay you all my future earnings until the day I, like, die, or get married (which is the same as die anyway) or whatever. He's Roger Federer. He doesn't need a long-time girlfriend. He can have any girl in the world he wants, and yet he's been with Mirka for eight years. Who the hell does that? Apparently Roger Federer does.
So many things I admire about him, but so little of his off-court, private life that I actually know or care about; but his relationship with Mirka manages to melt my cold, cold heart. It's sweet. It's heartwarming. It's completely unfathomable to me.
I am so incoherent right now. And why, oh why, is Roger not scheduled for a match tonight? I swear, I could really use the distraction right about...now. Sigh.
Anyway, I'll bounce back. I always do. My threshold for bullshit is pretty low nowadays, and for good reason too, and trust me, tonight has definitely exceeded - spectacularly - that threshold. Apparently enough wasn't quite enough, but hey, I'm sure enough WILL be enough. Someday. Hopefully soon, but...someday.
*
Maybe I do have a thing for guys that treat me badly. In that case, then I'm a fucking moron and it's all my fault. Because the one guy that has consistently treated me like the princess that I deserve to be treated is also the one guy that I'm never going to touch. My reasons are my own, but suffice it to say...just that.
I want my own Roger Federer.
before sunrise // before sunset
Previously:
- - Tuesday, Aug. 29, 2017
I'm moving. - Sunday, Jul. 11, 2010
In all honesty - Tuesday, Jul. 06, 2010
What I want for my birthday... - Sunday, Jul. 04, 2010
On Roger's behalf. - Friday, Jul. 02, 2010