I hate being unable to control a situation. I hate not being able to fix a problem.
I hate having to sit and wait. And hope for the best.
I am anxious. And frustrated.
It's all I can think about.
I know I'm not the only one hurting and that makes it worse. I want to make you feel better. But I'm sure that I would have the opposite effect right now. I wish I weren't so nurturing. I wish it didn't hurt me so much to know that someone else is hurting. I wish I didn't care so damn much. I wish that feelings were like they were in grade 9, when a long relationship lasted a month and everyone was friends again immediately.
I wish these butterflies would go away.
I've recently learned that you don't need to be in love to end up heart-broken. I can't explain it, but I feel like I need you in my life. I've even considered trying to date you so I don't lose you. But I know it would be a lie. I just don't feel for you like that. But for some reason, I feel so good with you. I can be me. Completely me. I feel like you could be my non-romantic soulmate. I know we accept one another, even though we both know how fucked up we are.
Any one reading this would think I am in love with you. I know that is how it must sound. But that's not it. I don't want to date, marry, or have your babies. But I want to celebrate with you when you find the girl that will.
Is that true? I'm not even sure if I believe it. That would mean sharing you. I can't explain why I feel like I need you.
I like writing here. I feel like you might read it and know how I am feeling. But I also know that you don't know this exists.
Fuck, I want to call you.
I'm writing here because I know you don't know this exists. I just need to write. It's so strange, this digital world that we have become. A generation ago, I would have been writing this in a diary. But there is something liberating about writing aloud. About the possibility that someone might read this and understand. Even though I am sure that none of my friends use livejornal anymore.
It's funny that I am writing here too. I know that your ex used to write messages on her blog for you to see. Only she wrote them pretending you wouldn't see them, even though she knew you would. But that is not my purpose. I know that you don't know about this journal.
I kind of hate you right now. I hate what you had to drop that bomb. I hate that you made me acknowledge the shift in your feelings. I would have been content to ignore it the rest of our lives.
I feel heart-broken. You've taken away my friend. He'll never be the same. We will never be the same. It hurts that you have taken all of this away from me.
I know that is selfish. I know you can't help it. No one can help how they feel. But it still hurts me. And I know it hurts you, for a different reason. I'm sorry I can't be that person for you. You are so sweet, and such a nice guy that I wish that I did have the same feelings for you as you have for me. But I thought we had grown past that. Everyone has been questioning our friendship, but I really thought that we just understood each other.
I've sworn. I've cried. I think I will do both some more.
Please bring me back my friend, unharmed. Unchanged.
I have a new website.
I am currently supplying jewellery to Made You Look
And my grad show, Flourish, is coming up soon.
I have finally made a website for my handmade sterling silver jewellery!
Take a peek.
The Grad Show and Amanda's Award!
An Overview of the night.
18 third year jewellery grads, their families and friends, and fellows jewellers come to celebrate the graduation of these students and to honour the recipients of awards.
Amanda is presented with her certificate and $1000 bursary cheque.
The award she is presented with was created in memory of Andrew Costello, a classmate who passed away last summer in a dirt birt accident. It was given for academic excellence.
She is seen here with Andrew's mom, who presented the award.
Her parents are so proud, as you can see here in this picture with her mom.
"To kiss well one must kiss solely. No groping hands or stammering hearts.
The lips and the lips alone are the pleasure.
Passion is sweeter split strand by strand.
Divided and re-divided like mercury then gathered up only at the last moment."
Jeanette Winterson, The Passion
There is no rock on which the mortal soul may founder but that contains some frail tendril of human kindness struggling to grow.
Love is hard, harder than steel and trice as cruel. It is as inexorable as the tides and life and death alike follow in its wake.