The dictionary defines detached as:
1. Separated; disconnected.
2. Standing apart from others.
3. Marked by an absence of emotional involvement and an aloof, impersonal objectivity.
So I presume that would make Juska correct.
I arrived in Finland Sunday afternoon with the knowledge I was going to be greeted by Juska and Rufus when I stepped off the plane. I wasn't exactly sure how I felt about this fact. Seeing as I was basically avoiding Brian, I didn't see as to why I wouldn't be avoiding Rufus too. Maybe I was, but Juska's pleas can be quite convincing. When my plane landed, I walked off and immediately began to search for familiar faces. Most of this was distracted by the immense amount of couples sharing moments all around me. The smiles on their faces, the joy, the way they ran to their lover's arms as if this was the first time, and only time they would be able to hold one another. I tried to divert my eyes away but they were all I saw, everywhere. They swirled around in my mind like some sort of masochistic play, showing again and again, taunting and laughing at me for being the fuck up that I am. I lowered my head to the ground before the laughing got too loud. As I continued walking I saw a new couple ahead of me, one I recognised. Juska and Rufus were sharing some sort of precious moment right before my eyes, and I wasn't sure how to take it. The laughing appropriately stopped, as did everything else, while Rufus noticed my presence. I was greeted with warmer hugs and affection than I ever could have imagined… unfortunately it didn't last long, nor did I expect it to, really. Most of my actions and words thereafter were a result of nothing being with me, myself not being me. Although I can't write two positive words about myself, so I assume I am never myself. Just some person walking around trying to hold someone for a second, before I realise what I am doing and push them away. Just for a second.
The whole car ride back to Juska's was mostly fighting, maybe a few tears and resentful whispers. It didn't stop for long once we actually reached our destination, prompting me to take a walk and clear my head. This of course isn't possible without the use of some substances other than fresh air. I shared when I returned to the house; they seemed a little more than grateful, as it lightened the mood greatly. I think the words and other things exchanged between the three of us should just stay there, between us. There is not much to say except tension was very expected, it happened, it's probably still happening, and it will probably always be present. Seeing Rufus again would have probably been more painful if I was able to comprehend more of it, luckily when the voices finally stopped, I went to sleep. They greeted me when I awoke, and haunted me throughout the day… preventing me to allow anymore pain and suffering in. I was appreciative.
New Years was something I didn't prep myself for. Juska, Rufus, and I all attended HIM's New Years show they do without fail at Tavastia every year. Juska held Rufus tight at his side as I made my way through scattered fans. As Ville came out to join the band for the first number, I looked around and saw how these girls were looking at him. With such love, such devotion, and such… desire. I watched him work the crowd so flawlessly; making girls swoon, and impressing the others with his silky, unique, and tantalizing voice. I wondered if anyone was studying me the way I was scrutinizing everyone else. I looked to my right to see Juska looking back. I gave him what I could of a smile to reassure him that I was fine. From the look on his face, I know he didn't buy it… of course I didn't either. As I watched Ville sing, amuse, and generally entertain the crowd in front of him, I believe it all clicked. So many things came rushing to my head that I can't even explain nor recreate every last one, not even a word of it. When they hit the chorus of "In Joy and Sorrow" was when I felt myself start to break. I was crumbling inside. I was waiting for myself to fall, shatter on the floor, and sink in to the earth where I wanted to belong. I wondered if he could even see me… through each person he made eye contact with, if he could see my eyes through the bright lights in his eyes, and through each admiring fan clinging to their shirt with his face and work printed all over it. I didn't expect him to, and he probably didn't. I looked down to my arm as I felt some sort of liquid trailing down my hands. Throughout the whole song I had unknowingly been digging my nails into my flesh, causing a not so attractive wound and an open gateway for blood. Maybe that was punishment for my thoughts, or maybe that was my way of keeping me alive. Focus on the pain you caused on your arm, not the death of your heart. I ran to the nearest bathroom to clean up. As I washed my arms in the sink, I looked up into the mirror and winced. I looked away just as quickly as I glanced, I should have known better. Returning back to the crowd I stopped by the front to pick up my coat, covering any trace of what I did. I didn't feel like answering questions, and I knew they would be coming.
I was reading a research report stating schizophrenic people are more at ease with a pet in their life. My cat is in London. This little fact really had nothing to do with anything… I just thought it was an interesting observation.
I hope all of you have a nice New Year.