a writer’s frustration in translation
A conversation over text I had today,word for word:
Me: I get jealous but I refuse to give him even the slightest bit of satisfaction in the act of my emotions towards him.
Friend: it’s just happens. I don’t kno why but it does
Me: Ugh wow this is actually horrid but in a way, I’ve never desired such a feeling, it’s so dramatically beautiful to love someone that projects such a tragic aura…but I also despise him and ughhhhh.
Friend: I think you just like the thought of him but despise what he’s done.
Me:I despise him in general. I despise the way he can enter a room and make me feel as if my heart plunged into the pit of my stomach. I despise the way I absolutely crave his full attention. I despise how idiotic he can behave and how extremely unintelligent fragments of sentences that spew from his mouth can make me laugh. I despise how he welcomes the idea of being unintelligent like he has pride in the idea of being uneducated. I despise how i can catch him staring at me from my peripheral vision from time to time. I absolutely despise how even the smallest gestures can send a thousand scenarios clattering around the interior of my mind. I despise how his touch can be so fair but feel so heavy. I hate it, I despise it, I dislike him. He gets me fuming.
Friend: my heart….. omg.
Me: Carefully observe my frustration and tell me that this is not tragic. Because it most definitely is.
Friend: it is, my hearts like in pieces it’s so beautiful yet so….. different or tragic.
Me: For the first time you are witnessing me in utter anger, so much anger that I need to highly romanticize the idea in order to calm myself, to make it sound more beautiful rather than frustrating. Omg…I hate myself haha.
Friend: not necessarily, I’ve felt this way before.
Me: It’s a characteristic I adore about being a decently great writer, words don’t come out as harsh and vile unless you intend them to.
Friend: you’re a beautiful human being you know that.
Me: sometimes, less than I should.
Friend: well always remember that.