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clairflynnboyle's journal
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Claire Flynn Boyle's Journal  I've had an emotional day. 6 years ago today I met THAT person, the one that changed everything. And yes, things did change, just as that person predicted. I can still hear their voice telling me that. I can still hear their voice telling me how special I was. And yet, it meant nothing in the end. How do you cope with that? How do human beings cope with that? Can you get over it? If we met again, could we just...be? Friends? Civil? Normal? I don't know. You were the one with the answers. The question is, what did it change? My world was sand and fog, I know that now. It was lacking something real. It was fun and it was flippant, but you, you made it real, told me things change, to grow up, to not run away from something very genuine. Then you took it away. There's something oddly hurtful about promises that aren't kept, not in terms of the words, but just in the deceipt. The funny thing is, this person is still in my heart. And I hate them, and I love them, and I probably always will. And all the words, the beautiful turn of phrase, the way people you loved for being poetic and artistic when the truth is, it was just a shield. You couldn't say what I wanted you to. You couldn't say something real. You still can't. And yet, you made me strong. You wouldn't know me now. I walked away. It was me that made that choice. And whenever snow falls, or I hear "our" song, I know I made the right choice. I was strong. Over it? Probably never. That's the price of the first. And yes, sometimes I still think you are around, but I know someone now, someone who can tell me something real, and not couch it in a long, winding, misleading avant garde turn of phrase. Beauty isn't always where you expect it. It's not always in a painting, or art, or a break in a song, it's sometimes just around a kitchen table, in a plain setting, and it's simple and honest. You wouldn't know me now. I wonder if you ever did. CFB Current mood: Honest. So my best friend is pregnant, and we're fussing over her. I'm sitting in a corner, slightly hungover, and I think of all the little twists and turns that lead to this moment, all the little fates that have changed everything again. It's strange, ever since THAT relationship, I've no longer thought of life as some vague collection of accidents. I used to hope that somehow, my ship would come on. Hell, I used to wish on the stars things would get better. THAT relationship convinced me that it wasn't fate or chance that changed things, it was confidence. It was all down to how you dressed, getting out there, being brave, trying your best to make things happen. As I walked back to the train station after my first break up, I vowed that I wouldn't be careless with my heart, but I'd be honest. If I liked or loved someone, I'd tell them. If I didn't, I'd tell them. And leaving things to the fates, the tea-leaves, it's not going to work. And yet, when I look at my best friend, who believes everything happens for a reason, I wonder if her way is better. Who's right? Her, drifting into a series of happy accidents, stumbling in to a nuclear family purely by chance, as is her way, or me, less sympathetic, more blunt and direct, more likely to seize opportunities? We wonder some days why we are friends, when we are so deeply different. It's then that I know why. It's because we know what each other is thinking. She's always calming me down, I'm always firing her up. And whatever reasons we have for being as we are, however and whenever our relationships came together, we'll always be there for each other. I get up from the corner, and fulfil my hosting duties. I'm not thinking of anyone else but my best friend. It's her day. Later, we sit and drink together, and I'm content. I'm really lucky to have such a beautiful love, the perfect person to plan a life with, a best friend who is happy, and a collection of friends I would die for, and who would re-ciprocate. I'm not sure how we all got here, or who is right on the way you should go through life. However when we find our bliss in life, we shouldn't let it stress us or let minor details upset us. We just curl up in it, let it embrace us, and enjoy it for as long as it lasts. Because tomorrow, one of those "fate" things could come and spoil it all... CFB Current mood: Find out who am I too. I was lying on the beach today, I was flicking my foot idly and rhythmically, and I was trying to literally feel nothing. I was trying to let an entire year, the most turbulent year I've had, I tried to just let it go. Hell, I even tried to sit in the coolest pose possible, hoping to just...be...It didn't work. It's still there, the e-mail from the ex, the one with the poignant words and the evocative phrases but still with the hollow meaning. The wedding, the one that my best friend has waited her whole life for, but the one that makes everything change. The best friend who drifted into thin air...the new job...the new relationship that's hurtling into grown up territory faster than I can handle...it's still there, no tequila or paradise can make it stop... We build our lifes for the good of other people whether we want to or not. Every one of us, every person on a computer, every person on the plane with me, every person running on this beach, we are who we are because of other people. There's no true individuals. We convince ourselves that the CD we bought, the hat we wear, the smile we perfected, the places we holiday, that we picked them on our own. We didn't. It started as soon as you could talk to someone. As soon as you could connect with another person, they shaped you, and unless you lived in a cave your whole life, they are still there. They made you. You really don't have much say in the matter... But then, when you least expect it, they shape you for the better. They kiss you so deeply your heart stops, they send you your contract for your new job, and boost your confidence so much you just want to scream, they send you an SMS, an apology, a rapproachment, or they just get married, and you want to hug them until they burst, because you know that even though things change, the most beautiful things are happening, and your cynical hardened heart is still able to recognize beauty... ...and that your relationships will always out last anything you own... CFB Current mood:  peaceful.
I've been struggling to write in this thing for a while, since the contentment that floated down from the sky without warning touched me one day. I woke up as if I was under some kind of bizarre hypnotic influence, and it's not left me since. I'm not tormented, tortured or down in any way. In fact, the last time I sat down with a pen and paper to write anything down, I just couldn't. I sat like an idiot and watched some kids having a muck around. I guess hurt and angst makes you write better after all. The one thing I have noticed lately is how wonderful life truly is. I'm so glad that YOU (You know who you are, I know you read) came into my life, and made me see how amazing things are, how bright colours and feelings can be. The happiness I feel right now may not last, in fact, I know things can go wrong, that my love might actually leave a note on my pillow and crush my spirit into crisis, but without you, I don't know where I'd be. I also see my best friend in the arms of her love, and I know that things are changing for us. Maybe she'll no longer want to hang out with me. Maybe our life's are all spinning out in a strange direction, and there will be a day when we can't hang out, we can't just turn up at each others house with a video at 3 in the morning. But the thing is, I've embraced the future, and today, when I saw a 16 year old boy on the news, fitful, uneasy, nervous, edgy around his female interviewer, I thought how glad I am that you were there, and pulled me out of that... I will love you forever CFB Current mood:  content.
I had a dream last night, a dream where I saw the alternative me. I was sitting in an office all by myself, my blonde hair tied back into a bun. I was working really hard to get some numbers crunched, but I had a huge pain in my stomach. Then I started crying. I don't know why. Then I looked up from my desk and saw someone who had just joined my office swanning into a job more important than mine. They wouldn't tell me why I wouldn't get a more important job, but they just didn't notice me, I was a wallflower. It was a terrifying trip back to the old me, the quiet achiever, the little girl terrified to speak up, take clothes back or whatever. I've been called everything since I found the voice. A stuck up bitch, an arrogant cow, every sexual insult from frigid to slut, and the people who call me those things are the people I wave to on the way up. The worst thing you can do in this life is conform, be unnoticed, to live and die in unhappiness because you didn't chase your aspirations. I told no one I existed until I was 18 and the life changing thing happened. It's hard and it's scary to chase your aspirations but if you don't, no one can do it for you. And the old me? She's happy at how I've turned out... Claire Current mood:  touched.
I've been thinking a lot lately about what really matters. In truth, the only things that truly matter are those people that you can hold close to you. I've been let down before, but I'd like to think that somehow I can bounce back, that it doesn't affect me. I'm not overly tortured. Posessions and worried, frenetic, horrible emotions don't really ultimately matter. The only thing that really ever counts is that you can be honest with yourself, appreciate your surrounds, love openly and honestly, and to take each day and make the most out of it. That's all anyone can do. If you can look in the mirror at the end of the day, and defy hate, you are ahead of the game. Love you Eel. Good luck. CFB Current mood:  amused.
It's a cold night. I'm sitting cross legged on the floor, staring blankly at TV show I could not give a damn about. I'm wearing clothes I don't remember buying, and I'm afflicted with ennui, watching a single raindrop drift idly down a glass window, before it slides down and disappears. I repeat this pointless exercise more times than I care to remember and eventually I will go to bed, wake up, and realise that you are not part of my dreams. You didn't call me that night. I can't recall if you ever called again. I knew you wouldn't of course, even though I tried to convince myself that somehow you would. Why didn't I call you? Er...good question. I guess I was frightened, I knew what you would say, how you would react. It's not the anger that's killing me of course, it's the indifference. It's the way our lives descended so mockingly into hell while you made pasta and looked the other way, or I flipped through an inane pile of girly mags, not bothering to check who was doing who or what they were doing. If you had have called, if passion had come from your lips, I would have believed you. If passion had come from your heart, maybe you'd be here right now and I'd be holding you, or we'd be able to understand each other a little better. Now, I only see you briefly, and I know you see me too, and turn the other way. It's bizarre. I can't get a handle on it. You won't be part of my dreams, you won't be part of my nightmares, you'll be another drop of rain that I watch slide away from me, spiralling part me on footpaths, maybe sometimes flashing past on my TV screen, I don't know. Sometimes there was nothing better than being with you, and now, I can't think why... X CFB Current mood:  jealous.
I took the time today to be conscious of my thoughts. It's been a while... I'm back home, white noise coursing through fragments of my brain, a million fevered snapshots jostling for position. What have I forgotten? Did I really go on holiday? I press my hand to my head, searching for something real, and another moment slips by, lost forever, irreplacable. I notice people smiling, laughing, enjoying their moment. I wonder how long they will hold onto it, how long they will remember the people next to them. I see an argument coming from a mile off, a couple melting down before their very eyes, unsteady and unsure. I see cute young people smirking, and I press my mind, making it work to remember THAT lovesong that sparked a thousand dreams. I have the best friend in the world with me, a girl who doesn't hurry or rush or stress. I can tell her anything. I think of twenty, thirty people who I know who would kill for that. Then she tells me something silly, and I'm off on another tack, thinking of how to make her dreams come true for once. I'm listening to music on my headphones when I see an old friend, someone I haven't seen in years. He looks incandescent, glowing, healthy, like a different person. I don't intrude on his date, I let things go, but I know he's doing OK. Sometimes the best thing you can do for people is just be happy for them, to wish them well, and then move on. Sometimes you might wonder why people are your friends at all, but they shape you, they play a part in your life, and they re-assure you when the noise twists in your brain, and they hold you when you can't go on. Sometimes, after they drift away, it's still good to wish them well...and tonight, I'll dream a hundred sweet dreams, and think only of you...and you know who you are, my lifechanger... X CFB Current mood:  moody.
When I was 15, I didn't have a clue what I was doing, or what I wanted to do. There was pressure all around me to be a certain way, to hang out with X instead of why, to speak in a certain way. My parents never adhered to any aspirations for me other than that I was happy, but they didn't know what I liked, as testified by a large pile of birthday presents that amounted to nothing in particular. I used to imagine I was someone else, a talk show host or a great and famous writer, interviewed by Michael Parkinson. It was harmless escapism, and I wasn't afflicted by chronic depression, but I didn't seize enough moments, go to see the world, and I drifted vicariously through the lifes of pop stars, authors, bewildered tortured poets and the ins and outs of television shows that flickered through my flighty mind. One day I was curled up on the floor, and I can still remember how the carpet felt against my skin. I stared at a particular spot on the ceiling for an age, waiting for someone special to call, and they didn't ring. After around three hours, something in my heart snapped. This was my dream, and it wasn't working out. Somehow, I can still feel this crushing disappointment, remember every colour and every sensation of the day, and I can remember how cold I felt when I stared at the run down walls, and felt every negative emotion compacting in my brain, and most notably, the loathing. It HAD to be my fault, right? The insane thing is, I draw the most immense strength from this impossibly difficult event. People tell me it's better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all, but I think it's better to dream and fail than to never let a single fantasy enter your head. Silly things like people saying "the bus will never come" or "it will rain later" annoy me. The negative emotions that crawl over you impede your belief that better days will come, that you can function and go on, that you can succeed, and yes, that you can dream. The day you stop believing the sun will come out, the very moment you don't think things can get better, the very second that you lose hope and begin to take each day and get it out of the way quickly, is the very day you truly die, regardless of how young you are. Now I'm going to practice my Parkinson interview again... X CFB Current mood:  ditzy.
I've been swithering within myself over the issues of going up. I sat today with my back pressed against a stone wall, just watching kids with their faces painted in the colours of their favourite football team milling around, excited by the day out. Their joy is uncluttered and pure, it's feeds them as they stand around me, asking me questions about who I'm going for. Girls, boys...whatever, the day is enough. For me, I've been squarely confronted with a maturity issue. It plagues me, the future creeping up on me from out of nowhere. Suddenly I can see myself hanging off a picket fence, a domesticated volvo driving soccer chick, unable to fulfil her dreams, drumming my fingers off my skull during the day because of absolute boredom. Restlessly waiting for Saturday when the love is home to go round to some other persons house and spin the same records over and over as the years pass by with no discernable differences or memorable moments. Flippantly, I stare idly into the middle distance, letting the cold envelope me. Firmly back in the here and now, I let my mind spin freely, and giggle. There's still so much time to be silly, there's no point in worrying about the future. I pull a silly face at one of the kids, pop a jelly bean into my mouth, stand up, and take another opportunity to melt into the moment. X CFB Current mood:  dorky.
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