Reconstruction

"Story of my life: searching for the right, but it keeps avoiding me..."-Unfaithful, Rihanna

I'm closing up shop.

While practicing singing in the car with my best friend, he said a word that unlocked something. "Project. Don't be afraid to be loud." Project.

It was strange the way two syllables broke down some barrier within myself I didn't even know was present. Aside from being sensitive and soft spoken, I have found myself constantly looking for approval. I note this in my post "Reasons Not to Say Sorry," and while I have been applying the attitude I promised myself as much as possible, it didn't stick that even with my close relationships, I act as if certain people only cater to certain parts of me. Take my best friend,for example; he listens to me sing (seriously sing) on a regular basis. He was there in December and March when I tearfully packed my suitcase into his trunk. I'm comfortable with his silence. Our friendship is metaphorically comparable to that of a grandparent and grandchild. Around him, I never find myself in danger of being spanked for eating too much (being myself) or jumping on the bed (being honest).

I have friends that are good for yelling the frustrations of my love life to, friends that I can have my breakdowns around, and friends that I'm comfortable sharing good news with. (Very selective about who I share with due to the fear of negative energy being thwarted on my plans)

I even have friends that are reflections of things I doubt I'll become such as good by conventional standards, anxiety-free, in a stable and loving relationship. Those are the friends I resent when I talk to my overbearing father or am waiting another hour for a text back. In spite of myself, I don't always know how to love them back because them loving me (in my head) equates to pitying me, and that's the shit I hate.

Why is it, though, that people I'm supposed to be close to are only allowed certain parts of me? I should only surround myself with grandparents. That being said, it's time to do a sweep-through. There are enough watered-down versions of me: in the work place, educational settings, at home around my parents. People chosen to be in my close-knit circle should be those that I feel secure being loud with, people I can project to. My fears, plans, hopes, prayers, and anger should not have to be dished out according to whose car I'm in, and it no longer will be.

I've decided.

June 05, 2017 (Monday)
"Love yourself, girl, or nobody will..."

This will be harder than I expected. Being a different kind of Andrea is going to require strength I'm not fully aware of. It's there somewhere. Buried beneath my false proclamations of love and who/what I am. I am NOT someone who is stuck. I am NOT someone seeking approval. No permission slip was signed for me to pick up a dick or a Bible. I have stories I will bleed into ______'s ears because he loves me. Stories I will write into the hard drive of a computer long jammed with Word documents. God spoke joy into my nightmares. The things that fuel my insomnia have long passed, yet I stay up battling them. Strange cuts from the night sting in the shower when a rag hits. My body cries out to me in exhaustion, "Will we always be this damaged?"

--Diary Entry

No, we won't always be this damaged. I've decided.