Queen Vee Fugue (Reprise)

"Won't you help me rise up,
Touch my face and watch me try to breathe again
Would you let me do this,
Burn down the final wall
Overcome me, baby...
All I'm asking is to be alive
For once"
-Vienna Teng

This song almost brings tears to my eyes every time I hear it. I wonder if she felt the same self-inflicted loneliness I feel sometimes...the way I interpret it to be from these lyrics anyway. Granted no two people can feel the exact same kind of pain, or any emotion really, but I guess it's that exact relativity that keeps us connected. We just need to know there are others out there experiencing something similar. At least I do. Perhaps in some odd, irrational way it makes me feel less alone.

I kept a journal of sorts in college which I occasionally still wrote in until I started this blog. I was not very disciplined and wrote in it only when I was feeling overwhelmed, usually with negative emotions. In re-reading some if it, I can't believe how poorly I thought of myself and also how quickly I forgot those moments that seem to have helped shaped my psyche. Remembering how I acted then you would never have thought I was such an anguished young adult...anyone who has known me since then remembers me as happy go lucky, with the exception of the handful of close friends I opened up to at one point or another. I suppose I showed more of my dark side the older I got, but even then most people would still remember me as having a smile on my face. At any rate I have definitely grown since filling those pages with self-hatred and pity, but one theme seems to have remained to this day...my insecurities about relationships, sex and men. Surprise.

If you'll permit me the pretension of actually quoting my 21 year old self:

"...I know that I am aching to love someone and scared to death I won't let myself. I know what others tell me. I'm inclined to ignore or at least disbelieve. I waver too much. I have no loyalty to myself..."

(That first thought could have been said by me yesterday. [With the addendum of not letting anyone love me either.] In fact, I've probably written it in this blog 30 times.) Before everything went down with Jean, that last statement summed up my existence perfectly. Little did I know when I wrote those words how long I had and would let that dormant loyalty lie. I learned the concept of self-preservation after I finally forgave myself for letting her destroy me.

I was always so hard on myself both in terms of school work, which later turned into finding a way to start a career and personally, in terms of how I related to my friends, my family, the opposite sex and lastly my own expectations of myself. I'm starting to think that because I couldn't seem to live up to what I expected I should be, I was just constantly disappointed in the failure I thought I was becoming. (I loathe to admit this also may still be a weakness, it's just that my expections of myself have changed into something less concrete and so harder to potentially achieve.) And what I expected I should be was no doubt informed by my peers, my elders and the bloodiest last but not least mainstream. It seems like such a cop out to say that, but honestly, where else would I have gotten the idea that above all else I should be on my way to being happily married or at least experiencing a sexually satisfying relationship by the time I graduated college? (Aside from my mother who oddly enough expected it [the marriage that is] of me despite feeding me the exact opposite ideas throughout my formative years...) Every pop culture outlet hinted at it at the very least.

What's a girl to do when every magazine aimed at her demographic is filled with sex quizes and tips on how to please your man?

She turns to other more fulfilling magazines when she's finally informed enough to seek them out. Wish I had met some of the strong, independent female friends I have now sooner. The experience of joining the real world would have been so much more pleasant than the one I had: trying to find nourishment in a poisonous female friendship and then figuring out how to extinguish it while maintaining my sense of self. God it's all so dramatic I should have won an Oscar.

What was my point?

Oh right, that after all the growing and changing I've done in my life, this one issue remains stuck to the roof of my mouth, and no amount of brushing, flossing, or gargling can shake it loose. Why is that? (Aside from the obvious, Queen Vee you have issues, this is now public, albeit anonymous, information.)

Is it that people in general aren't willing to try to get to know people who have walls built around them? I can understand that. It takes a lot of energy and why should you bother if that person never lets them down?

Or is it really simply that I just haven't met anyone I'm willing to let them down for?

Perhaps I need someone to overcome me so I don't have the chance to even think about it. There's got to be a way in...I can't be guarded all the time.

Can I?

P.S. That said, I totally need to have sex with someone before I literally drive myself crazy. For whatever reason I cannot stop thinking about it lately. Maybe I've been watching too much tv...gadam pop culture.