Plain Jane's Musings - Jane's Journal

[JANE EYRE]

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[JANE EYRE]

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I've never been one to have big feelings. Often, in good humour, I accredited this to my small personage. I simply have no room to store any monumental emotion that could consume and radically change me. I've always feared that if I were to develop something so grand, that I simply wouldn't be able to keep it all inside. The one time I has felt something so large, I couldn't handle it, not really. I had felt my skin stretching, threatening to burst with it all. Forgive the vivid imagery, diary, but if I hadn't left Thornfield I'd be walking about with my entrails tailing after me.

...I should draw that. I have a set of oil pastels that haven't been used in a while and I have been wanting to experiment on unusual art surfaces. I have an old street sign waiting for use, I could try it there. But I digress...

It was too much for me to handle then. I was too inexperienced and too hopeful, too vulnerable to caring because I had been so lacking in my childhood. I was scared to be loved then though I wanted it desperately and I was so unused to love that the feeling overwhelmed me. I lived in a wonderful daydream, too blissful to notice or remember all that was wrong. I suppose, in a way, that I am still just as vulnerable. I still want to be loved, to have someone care for me, but I am far more cautious now.

I can feel something inside of me that reminds me of that great and terrible feeling. It's small now but I can tell that it will fill me up to the brim if given half the chance. A part of me wants to let that happen; let the glow wash over me (I should draw that as well) and let that daydream come again. The other part of me, the logical part that dictates my actions and my future, tells me to ward it off. It would do no good letting that happen again, I would let it distract me and hurt me just like it had before. Besides, the man in question (for this odd feeling of discomfort and enlightenment is caused by a singular man) wouldn't want me. Why would he?

So, diary, I've decided to do my level best and try to ignore this little seed inside and hope that in not watering it, feeding it, loving and nurturing, it will dry up inside and never grow into whatever it was meant to be. It only makes sense to do so for it would be insanity to foster it. I've felt unrequited love before only to find it to be returned whole-heartedly and snatched then away by the same man. I can't do that again.

-Jane

[JANE EYRE]

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Sometimes, I have so many plans for my art that I forget about everything that is happening in the here and now. Just this morning I was rather rude to the citrus woman at the farmer's market because I got caught up in an idea for a painting. I wanted to paint an old fashioned harlequin, rising into the air with the aid of a balloon animal, a ghost town version of New York beneath her. The idea was inspired by the woman's dress, a dark rust color and the the checkered scarf she wore on her head. I, of course, righted my wrong immediately and stored the idea away.

Other times, the reality of the world weighs down on me. Momentary flashes will remind me of everything I had back in England which then lead to me reminding myself how impetuous I had been in leaving. I was lucky to have everything turn out so well. I could have ended up homeless or a victim of crime. Looking at statistics and seeing how many young women from overseas end up dead or sold into prostitution I am aghast at my decision. I could have ended up as one of those women. Every night in my prayers I thank the Father for keeping me safe and blessing me even further.

I wish I could find a balance between the two. A place where I can see the world around and still delve into my creative conscious at the same time. It's too easy to be consumed by one or the other and I know that I need to learn resilience. I may be young but I could do so much damage if I don't learn to focus now. I don't want to lose everything I've only recently gained because I'm acting the part of a foolish teenager.

I may have earned the chance to act my age through all my struggles but I do not have the luxury of a safe place to take advantage of that. Once I am secure, perhaps, but until then...

-Jane

[JANE EYRE]

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I was listening to a radio show earlier today, one that dispenses advice for every caller. They mentioned that one way to get over someone (romantically) is to list all the reasons why you shouldn't be with them, or care about them. I find myself thinking about Edward to no avail. I am more than ready to move on, it's been a year, and I'm going to try the trick mentioned by the radio station.

• He accused me of being a witch at our first meeting
• He is rude, dismissive, and judgemental
• He toyed with my feelings
• He made elaborate plans to learn about my past rather than just asking me
• He purposely lead me to believe that he was engaged to Blanche Ingram
• He had me care for his brother-in-law without informing me of their relation
• He had me live in the same house as his wife
• He attempted to marry me without first divorcing his wife
• After the failed marriage attempt he asked me to run off to Vienna with him and live as his mistress
• He didn't come after me when I left











Why wasn't I good enough? He claimed that he loved me but not enough to go through the trouble of seeking a divorce. What about me wasn't enough? Better yet, why was I such an easy person to target and toss aside? I may be small, plain, and simple but I am not heartless, I feel just as strongly as he did, or say he did.

I guess that means that my feelings just don't mean that much...

Don't I deserve to love and have that feeling requited? Or am I just as meaningless and invisible as I sometimes feel?



I beg your pardon, journal, for unloading such a weight onto you but you are my only confidante. Hopefully, this feeling will pass.

-Jane

[JANE EYRE]

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Is it normal to fear falling in love? After being hurt once, it makes sense, but it doesn't feel right. One should embrace the feeling, not wish to run from it and hide from its implications. Love is a wonderful thing, even unrequited love is to some extent. It's an amazing feeling to carry around inside of you, it warms you from the inside out and paints the world around you in pleasant colors. Watercolors, soft and blending, melting together in a way totally unlike anything else, that's what love was like. Or, that's what love should be like.

I don't feel that way.

I fear falling in love when I know that it will not returned. Beyond that, I fear being pulled along like before and having my heart broken again. I know the latter won't happen, he isn't like that. He wouldn't lie to me like that and make a game of my feelings, especially since he knows about what happened before with E. Disregarding that, I know what he could never love me like I'm starting to love him. I'm just a girl, not even twenty yet, with no great talent to offer the world and I am certainly no beauty. Unless he has painfully low expectations, I am most assuredly not his type. And considering how he acts, his expectations aren't set so low.

I'd rather not get stuck on this, it won't fix anything. It'd be best just to put my mind to something else.

I've run out of milk and I need to make a stop at the store on my way home tomorrow. I'll have to remember to add it to my grocery list tomorrow morning. It's rather late now but I'm having trouble sleeping as of late. I've been plagued by bizarre dreams where hats seem to be a recurring theme. Just last night I dreamt that New York flooded and we all floated about in giant hats. The night before that, we were using hats for homes.

I'm rather tired of dreaming of hats.

-Jane

[JANE EYRE]

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I have adopted a cat. Really, by adopted I mean that I found him after helping the Danglin Man, named Sherlock Holmes, to what turned out to be a crime scene. While he was skipping about, far too happy to be looking at a dead person, I wandered off to the side and looked down an alley.

This poor dear was laying beside a trash can, half dead. Naturally, I couldn't just leave him there so I scooped him up and left the man to his devices. He would have to get home on his own.

I do hope he made it.

Anyway, back on track, I took the cat home and set out some water and tuna for him so I could run to the store and pick up everything for him. When I came home he was sleeping happily on my couch, purring loudly.

I decided to name him Polyphemus because of his eyes. One is blue, one is amber, and I found out very quickly that he couldn't see out of his blue eye. He ran into the coffee table a few times before figuring out it was there.

Paul isn't a handsome cat. His tail is completely hairless and he's missing a few teeth, one of his ears is half-eaten off and he is missing the majority of one paw, but I love him. He's very affectionate and is rather well behaved.

Since I won't be having children anytime soon, Paul is the closest I am going to be getting to a mother for now.

For some reason I think he's completely fine with that.

-Jane

[JANE EYRE]

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Paul is quite a peculiar cat. I love him to bits but he's so very strange. When I'm holding him he's the sweetest thing, purring and carrying on in that fashion. When he's left to his own devices though...he gets a bit funny.

The other day I came home and found him on the bed. He was playing and when he saw me he, for lack of a better term, freaked out when he saw me and made a mad dash for my closet. Two hours later he was still there, sleeping on top of my blue pumps from Lady de Bourgh.

I warned him that if he kept acting like that we could never have company over. I then realized that I was talking to my cat as if he were a flatmate. I know that I need to socialize more but following the meningitis, I haven't had the energy. I'm going to force myself to, though, so as to prevent myself from going mad.

-Jane

[JANE EYRE]

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Through some grace, lift has gotten better. The run in with Edward which, at that moment, had been the stuff of nightmares, had proven to do good. I think we both found closure over our little lunch, I know I did. I had been fooling myself for the past two years, making him into some wicked villain. Edward’s not a villain, not by any stretch of the imagination. He was a man who made several mistakes. I fully intended then, and still do, to hold him accountable for his actions but I see that he has already suffered. The rift between us has not been healed yet, and I doubt it ever will fully close itself, but at least now we can go back to being friends, before the messy emotions got in the way. I was only 18 and vulnerable though I thought differently of myself, now I am 20, nearing 21, and am wiser but no less vulnerable. I’m just better at hiding it now.

Regardless, I’ve been able to finally close the book on that part of my life. Even though I kept saying that England and Thornfield was behind, now I can truly mean it. I am free of its dark walls.

Ever since my charity has gotten off the ground, life has been an absolute dream. Part of my inheritance included some bonds and stocks my uncle had purchased, following the advice of a financial consultant, I haven’t touched them. Even with all the money I’ve put into the charity, to other organizations, and in treating myself, I am still a millionaire because of them. What a funny though. Me, Jane Eyre, a millionaire. Every so often, I have to remind myself that yes, it is real. I don’t live as a millionaire, I don’t see the point in it, but still seeing 7 figure numbers in my bank account is startling. I swear, I have a small heart attack every time I check my balance.

I’ve met some very interesting people, for which I’m glad. Mr. Plantagenet, who was an interesting man to chat with, Mycroft Holmes, my lawyer, Peter, my neighbor whose refrigerator I knick from time to time, and a curiously tall, quiet man who saved my life, Perry, a fellow artistic soul, Ling Ling... It’s been so wonderful meeting so many new people, my own relations growing even more. Monte Cristo is truly the brother I never had before and sometimes I feel so blessed to have so many brilliant people in my life now. I gave up on religion a while back but I’ve been going back to church, to pray and give thanks. A turn for the better of this magnitude is not something that just happens by chance.

But, in the midst of all this, a childhood issue has resurfaced. It’s rather embarrassing to admit, but I’m terrified of the dark. It goes all the way back to the Red Room; ever since I was 8 I’ve not been able to stand the dark. In Lowood, I learned to manage it and by the time I was in Thornfield and then New York, it was under control. I had trained myself not to care but now, in my flat, the dark scares the life out of me. I actually bought a nightlight the other day. It’s a hourglass that glows for fifteen minutes then goes out. It’s really helped to keep the nightmares at bay. It doesn’t hurt either that Paul sleeps with me at night. Having another heartbeat nearby also helps. It’s soothing and it helps me to relax.

I’m sure this reemergence of my nyctophobia is just a little phase, a transition. Or I hope it is. I have half a mind to go and find myself a boyfriend just so I can be held at night. As much as I love Paul and appreciate his furry little body, it’s not the same as two arms wrapped around me. That’s just silly talk though. If I were to get a boyfriend, it would have to be for more than night time cuddling.

I think I’m almost ready to start dating. It’s been touch and go for a while but I think I’m secure enough with myself to be okay with it. Of course, I don’t want anything serious, not to begin with. There aren’t any rules about me not enjoying myself though. Who knows, I may even find a good friend.

I’ve got to run now, journal. Paul’s snooping near my paints and I don’t want him to get into something and get sick. I’m sorry I’ve neglected you so much, but I’ll fix it. Until next time, journal.

-Jane

[JANE EYRE]

D

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-Jane