Log in

No account? Create an account
The Dance.... - Abadoss' Mind
(=Links=) - Abadoss' Realm - Facebook (my Facebook profile) - Twitter (@Abadoss) - deviantART (my public art) - YouTube (my public videos) - SoundClick (My Public mp3s) - Conceptual Music Competition - OverClocked ReMix - Young Composers - Iona - Rebecca St. James - Jake Shimabukuro - Troy Keyn - Jessica Meshell - Oregon Symphony - All Classical - Warner Pacific College - Arts & Communication Magnet Academy - Thunder Game Works - Real Life Comics - Penny Arcade - Homestar Runner - Hulu - Craigslist - Encyclopedia of Arda - Uileann Obsession - Weapon Masters - Michael Greenholt - Emerald Twilight - Digital Blasphemy
Sun, Mar. 10th, 2002 11:45 am
The Dance....

I can't honestly say that I remember ever having these feelings before.

By very weird and strange happenings, I found myself buying a ticket for the 80s dance for this last Friday. Originally, my view was that I wasn't going to go because I honestly didn't know what to expect. In all my history, I had never been to a dance before. I wasn't sure what I would do there. I didn't have any intention of going until Thursday.

During Spanish, glindaofoz was asking around for who was going to the dance. She was trying to find someone to be a host for saffroncisco, since she is no longer at school. Everyone was either taking someone else or not coming. At that moment, I sat there while my head swarmed with every single argument against or for going to the dance. I desperately tried to make sense of all the mess in my head before making a pathetic flail for sanity. I didn't want to see saffroncisco not get to go because no one could take her, so I told glindaofoz that I would. She already had the guest pass waiting.

That was Thursday. On Friday morning, I was talking to glindaofoz. She told me that saffroncisco wasn't going to come after all. By this time, I had already started coming to the realization that I was going. So, I was left in a dazed and confused disposition. I had the choice of going stag or not going at all. Before Thursday, I simply wouldn't have gone, but I was vulnerable. I had no idea what to decide. I talked to several people, asking them if I should go. I realize now that asking that was like asking a barber if I needed a haircut. With little defenses left, I broke down and bought a ticket.

That night, I managed to get there two hours early (Tri-met). They wouldn't let me in until 8 o'clock, so I waited outside the hanger. I stared up at the sky, trying to get my thoughts in order. As soon as the stars began to show, I focused my attention on Orion (my favorite constellation). My concentration was broken several times by gnomeundrwrlint and other girls who kept screaming "ET, come home!" and, in gnomeundrwrlint's case, sitting on my lap rather forcibly (she nearly knocked the wind out of me). That didn't really bug me all that much, though. It was what happened when I went in the doors.

(Keep in mind that nothing particularly physically happened, but the issues occurred in my mind)

I walked in to find no one I really knew. I made my way to the drinks almost instinctively. As I stood there, I told myself that if I don't dance then I can just absorb the atmosphere and learn a little. As the hour progressed I watched and I stood still. I could hear the beat, I could see the lights, and I could feel the energy of the people, but I stood still.

I wanted to dance, but I didn't know how. I could see it in my mind, but I didn't know what to do. I couldn't just flail around (although, Laura tried to get me to), that's not fun for me. I don't get any enjoyment out of simply moving. If I knew how to dance, I would have fun. I need to know something in order to have fun doing it.

However, that was only the surface. As I stood there, I felt all the years of repressed emotions. I felt every single fears and pain and sorrow well up inside my heart. I felt the apprehension that had kept me from being a child. It all came back to haunt me.

I realized something about myself that night. I had spent five years in isolation, only to come out afraid of contact. I couldn't bring myself to be that close to anyone, even in fun. I fear people being hurt by what I hold back. I'm afraid that someone will be hurt by me. If you ever want to know why I hold back so much and never show anything... that's why. I've bottled up five years of emotions, all of which are worth ten centuries. To let loose that could easily be dangerous. I would rather suffer myself than subject anyone to my agony. Only on that night did I realize how that fear could manifest itself into any situation. That is why I struggle so much with relationships. I'm afraid that I'll hurt anyone I come into contact with. But what do I do about it?

It's only half way, realizing your problem, but the second half is the most difficult. I have a wall that took five years to build, how long will it take to break down? Five, ten, twenty years? Or is there a chance of breaking it down sooner? Could I have dealt with it by tomorrow? Or by the time I finish this entry? I don't know.

Irony... my greatest desire is to have true and solid friendships, but I'm too afraid to open myself up. It would be so hilarious if it didn't hurt as much as it does.

I did see Hannah, which added to everything, but I was more concerned with controlling the battle in my head. After about an hour, I hid in the bathroom, pacing back and forth. I contemplated every little decision that I ever made that was related to the situation. I was in there for about twenty minutes when I finally gave up and left. I grabbed my coat and said goodbye to anyone that might be suspicious about my departure. I held back my tears on my way back and on the bus. I got home (Luckily I was alone) and tried to let go, but I wouldn't. I wouldn't let myself grieve. I couldn't let go of my barrier. In despair, I just went to sleep. I had lost.

If only I had made a different choice five years ago, I could have enjoyed myself. I might have actually had fun. I might have been an actual person... and not the shell that I have become.

I know that God doesn't want me to be a mindless and heartless automaton. I know that he wants me to be able to feel and express my emotions... I want that too.

Current Mood: depressed depressed
Current Music: "I Will Love Again" -Lara Fabian


Sun, Mar. 10th, 2002 06:28 pm (UTC)
So it was you!

Oh, sorry I backed out on you. Between the confusion of getting the tickets and several other bizarre factors, I just decided not to go.

As for your inability to "get up and dance", believe me, you look a lot goofier standing around like a culture than flailing and shuffling like an idiot. It also feels good, no matter how lame a dancer you are, to just start movin' around. I mean, you're the guy with the trombone who's always swingin' in the stands! What'sa matta' wit' you? :D

It took me until the last Fall dance to really start groovin'. And I'd never danced before. There's hope, Kenny. Just don't be afraid to look stupid and it will come easy... dance like Snoopy if you must. :P