you failed anyway

I can be cold and calculating. I have defense mechanisms too. I can say things to push you away, and I do. But you know what? For some reason I thought I'd see you today.
I can't imagine you running to me, or anywhere, and begging forgiveness. I felt your turmoil earlier today. You were raw. You are in your bed, larval, but I am in my chrysalis and untouchable. Soon I will emerge and not remember ever being anything than what I am at the time. You will fade with my old form. I will devour my shell.
But still, when I was on my roof reading comics, I thought you would come to my house. I have these romantic fantasies. Let me tell you: I would be on my roof, reading. You would walk to my house (because you said you were going on a walk; you knew I would know) and yell my name. There would be a little back-and-forth then I would come downstairs. We would talk. At the end of it, we'd embrace and kiss and who knows what else.
But I'm not going to tell you any of this. I miss you. You don't need to know that I miss more than just the sex.
Sometimes you can't let yourself know things until it's too late. You sabotage your own life. You, Steel, are excellent at that. Your cockiness and false confidence. You think I don't see through you. You think I don't know all the doubt you harbor. Such a pretty wall you've built around your core; even you can't see what's really there.
I'm tired. I am tired through my entire body, straight to my heart. How can I feel anything other than this fatigue? I get sick of people. I get sick of how they treat each other in the name of not getting hurt.

You hurt me. I want to hurt you back.
But it just isn't worth it. Not to me. Not to you. Not to anyone, ever.
I want you to know what you are missing.

I resent your beauty

I saw ex-otter's ex today. She asked if I thought deafgirl had sabotaged my relationship with him. "Yes, but he can't admit it." I am always amazed by how non-committal his friends are. I think that is a trait he seeks out in people. I think I am unable to do that.

I am tired today. Tired of holding onto this anger. I don't know how to let it go. I want to go to sleep and wake up with no feeling toward him. I want to wake up and be ok with where my life is currently.

"We are part of the 'no one will ever love us' club," I said of my roommate and myself. The more time that passes, the more certain I am that I will never find anyone who can deal with me long-term. I realize this could be a self-fulfilling prophecy. Still, I miss security. I miss belonging.

Match these phrases with these names: (some will be used more than once; some will have more than one answer)
steel. ex-otter. me. rare. buttercup. brit. vew. ex-husband.
"We fit so well together."
"Pinky swear."
"I'm not sure if I'll ever love you."
"I think of you as a potential partner."
"You are the best thing that's ever happened to me."
"I've never felt this way about anyone before."
"I'd love to see you."
"This isn't working."
"Our worlds just don't mesh."
"You aren't the person I thought you were."
"When I said I love you, I meant that I love things about you, not that I love you."
"You have a perfect pussy."
"Your body is perfect."
"You've killed my spontaneity."
"I love you."
"I will never stop loving you."
"I will love you forever."
"There will always be a place in my heart for you."
"If you ever need anything, I will be there."
"I want to keep you in my life."
"I am afraid of losing you."
"I can't talk to you for a while."
"I need some space for a while."
"You're scaring me."
"I can't tell how you'll react to anything."
"We aren't right for each other."
"I never wanted this."
"I don't hate you. I'd have to love you to hate you."

Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you.

the groundhog way

May 18th was the first mention I made of Steel. Here, at least. I remember being very excited about actually having a genuine crush on someone. It was really only the second one since ex-otter left me. The other was Nik, and a disaster.
That leaves, what? A month and a quarter? The last time I had a "relationship" with someone that was so short, I think I was still in high school. Age 15.
It has become clearer to me than ever that I cannot do this. Especially not with Steel. Possibly not with men at all.
Once upon a time, a month ago, I made a list of the things I liked about him. I gushed and was sooo happy and optimistic; kind of like I'd never been before. People creeped out by my joy should be happy to know that I am back to who I used to be. Want to know what really bothered me about him? Understand I am entirely serious when I say this. An explanation will follow.

I hate the way he eats.

Yes, I don't like that he eats meat, but that's not what I'm talking about. He chews with his mouth open. It is disgusting. I couldn't look at him when we would eat together. Whenever I could, I would turn from him and get as far away as possible. The sound of open-mouthed chewing absolutely repulses me. Once we were eating food at my house and I got so anxious sitting there with him. We were in the kitchen and I just turned away as well as I could to avoid hearing him. I hated it. I talked to my therapist about how to deal with this, tried to be subtle with him once, asked friends for advice ... but I didn't want to bring it up to him because of the whole "control" thing.
I mentioned my eating disorder once but never went into detail. It encompasses several things: the act of me eating (as in the acquisition of food), people being around me when I eat (depending on the person, food, place, and my mood that day, I might not let people be around me at all), and how the people around me eat. I absolutely can't deal with loud chewers unless there is enough noise around us (like music) to distract me from the sound. Just thinking about it makes me anxious. I am embarrassed to admit this. I had a problem eating with Buttercup, too, because of this. But I was more comfortable talking to him about it.
I think, too, it just seems polite to me. Close your mouth when you chew. See? It sounds so petty and yet it is a major problem for me. If I can't stand the way someone eats, I don't want to be around them. I should remember this in the future. Eat first, date later.

I feel better for having said all that. I feel reasonably safe that, now things are over, he won't read this. Not that it would matter if he did because things are over. I can't imagine he'd let himself care enough to actually pursue me. That would require an admission of emotion on his part. He might have to acknowledge his feelings.

Yeah. I'm bitter. I think I have earned it.

exit stage left, cry on the stoop

Therapist said this reaction is drawing from the pain I still feel from ex-otter's treatment of me. Therapist said that, to me, this just proves that men will only hurt me. Therapist said I should give Steel another chance.
What do I say?
I don't know, I don't know, I don't know.
Yes. This does re-awaken wounds I am trying to bury. Yes, it does show me that all men I know will at some point hurt me. Didn't someone say that the goal in life is to avoid pain? What the fuck?
Show some tact, show some intelligence, show that you care. He signed his apology with "love" and that's the first time he's ever done that. Most of me says not to look back. A small part whispers, "look up."
This is a circle I'm tired of following. I'm tired of this town and I'm tired of its residents. I am so fucking sick of my anxiety. I say, "I don't view myself as an anxious person. Every time I am, it's like getting used to it all over again." That's true. I am not who I want to be.
Much of my life, I've looked in the mirror and didn't think it was me. I still feel that way.

Heard a story today from my supervisor. Said she fell in love at 18, but the guy wouldn't stay with her. They never stopped loving each other, even though sometimes 7 years would go without them talking. She got married three times, had two kids. He was married. Twenty-six years after they met, she moved back to RI. He called her. And that was that. They're getting married this summer.
Fairy tale beginning, fairy tale ending, total fucking heartache in between. Should I let this give me hope, or should I take it for the fluke that it is? Because let's be honest here; I love ex-otter. I could deal with almost anything if it meant I'd have him again eventually.
I mean, that's the romantic in me talking. In reality, I say "fuck him" and just want to leave him behind forever.

It's so easy to sound beautiful when no one's listening. Your own ears never really hear what you're saying anyway.

it's what you do that makes you who you are

Sometimes a weird night is what it takes to make a shitty time better.

Because of my experience with the pictures of ex-otter, I've been somehow even more self-reflective. I did not know this was possible. Steel and I had sex yesterday and afterwards we were talking and I started crying. I said, "I miss having someone to have adventures with, and ride bikes with, and get distracted by things, and go exploring." That was ex-otter for me. Most of the time it's hard to imagine there being anyone who was so independently weird, so different, able to add his own strange animalness to our relationship. Nobody else had ever done that before. It was always amazing to me. I miss that creativity.

I don't know how to think about things. I want him to be wrong, to regret leaving me. He doesn't. I want to not hurt like this. I am still using sex as a replacement for love. I am not used to people wanting me. I am getting tired of fucking people. Not tired enough to stop yet. I feel like this is medicinal. But is sex my methadone? Can I overdose accidentally? What will happen then?

Why is Steel different? Why is he more than sex? I am so lonely. I am gradually reaching out to people. Yesterday I sobbed and it felt real. I asked him to let down some of his defenses. Today I woke up at 2pm and he'd sent me a text, called me twice, and written an email trying to get in touch with me. I think I love him.

I am finding a little peace within the turmoil. It's not the eye of the hurricane. It's wandering through pouring rain and finding that one spot beneath the tree where it's mostly dry. Or the sheets of rain slicing up the pavement; but it's irregular and you can sometimes walk through it without getting hit.

Kicked a boy out of my apartment last night because I found out he had a girlfriend. And I ask myself, "Why didn't deafgirl do that with ex-otter?" She was worse; she pursued him. At least I'd just been lied to by omission. At least I called him scum as he left.

You two don't know anything.

Hell, neither do I. It's about time I admit that. It's about time I take my life back as my own and not some kind of shattered thing he walked away from.

it doesn't leave me; why'd it leave you?

I finally did it. I looked at ex-otter's facebook page. His status is "in a relationship with _deafgirl_." We were together for over a year and he never changed his online statuses. His main picture is a pic of them together. Ditto. He is scum and I hate him. It hurts. It hurts so much I can't feel it.
She joined the group "alternatives to marriages." It seems like they're living together. The pictures of them, he's holding back her long, tangled hair. She is trash. He is too. I hate them I hate them I hate them I hurt.
How does this happen. Why do I still hurt so much, but he's just buried in this fucking lie? It feels like a lie to me. Why isn't anyone here to hold me? What the fuck did I do?
Crying, finally. I wish I could be happy for them. I still feel betrayed. I think what would help is if I heard apologies from them. But I can't control this shit. They don't think they did anything wrong. That confounds me. TO them they didn't, to me they might as well have killed me.
I am so sick of this pain. I just want it to leave. Pocket of air around my heart, contracting. It's a vacuum; like when your lip gets stuck in a straw. Uncomfortable times ten.
It's not real anymore, but I'm still stuck. I hope this trip knocks my ass out of it. I need my head to be somewhere else for a while. I must do what is right for me. Right?
Pocket of pain around my heart, contracting. I studied this in biology, right? Which atrium? Which ventricle? Veins or arteries? I don't know.
I hate this.

I hate that this happened in the order that it did; in the way that it did; with the ignorance it did. I hate hate hate htaehehahtha hurt.
H
U
R
T

You don't understand, ex-otter.
Neither do I.
I think you and I are over. I hope she hurts you soon.

learning to be nike

He loved Iron and Wine but I wouldn't listen to them. I regret that now, like I regret so many ways I acted when we were together.
There's a book at home that I sent to him. He never read it. I underlined passages and made notes about us, foolishly thinking at the time that it would help bring him back to me. He closed himself off so tightly when his brother died. At least he did to me. It hurt. Everything was painful. I don't understand anything.

I love him. I still love him. To me love has never been something that just goes away. It is a connection that is never severed, just sometimes it gets faint enough to mostly forget. It turns into other things. I miss him. I miss us. That's what it comes down to, doesn't it? There were shitty times. The good parts were so much better than the others were bad, though.

I say I know he's not coming back, but that isn't true.
I don't want to have this hope inside of me, but I cannot kill it. I think the reason I make myself think about deafgirl is so that my hope will die. How can I do this? Do I have to see him? What the fuck do I do? I'm not ready. It's been seven months. I am not ready, still.

I am not tortured like I used to be. Just tired. I want it to be over, but it feels too unreal to ever end. How can something that isn't real go away? By definition, isn't it already gone?

I have to remember that no matter how much I change, it doesn't change him. I have to remember that he is someone else now, not the person I met two years ago. I have to remember .. he isn't .. he ...

Sometimes I forget how sore my heart is. Sometimes the breathing comes naturally. Sometimes I can live in the moment and when I laugh, I feel it. For a short period of time the world is beautiful again and I am radiant and the people around me are amazing and I just want to breathe in everything and not let it go. I want to touch the world and remember every sensation.
But it passes. I have this memory of joy, but it fades. I have lost so much love in my life. I have given so much of myself away. What do I have in return? Other peoples' scars? I can't imagine being in love again. Not like I have been before.

There is a love that is knowing. The security of a future with someone, knowing they won't leave you, believing they won't leave you. Deep inside knowing things about them that you don't know you know. There is an inner core of knowledge that we don't get to touch; yet it seeps throughout the body. I knew. I knew, and then I found out everything was wrong.

Don't know where I'm walking sometimes. I am lost. There is no ground beneath me. How can I be walking with nothing beneath my feet? This is where he left me when he left me. Oh, and he never looked back. That's what hurts the most.

I hate him too.

I am fine. I find myself sometimes. Mountain tops and tall places where people wait for me. This is terrifying but what else am I going to do? Let's go, let's walk, let's keep going until I can't move anymore. Solid footing or air, at some point it's all the same anyway.

Every path can lead anywhere. It just depends on your destination. Me? I don't think I have one.

forcing the issue

This morning as I rode my bike to school, I found myself thinking my usual hurtful thoughts regarding ex-otter and deafgirl. One of my therapists once told me that it is exhausting to keep up negative thinking. It's true. It really is. So I started a small experiment, trying to tell myself that I hope he heals. But when I came to deafgirl, I found myself thinking that I hope she hurts.
Well, first I thought that I hope she dies.
But I don't think I meant it.
I hope he heals, I hope he gets what he needs, I hope he can move on eventually and realize she isn't it. I hope I can move on eventually and realize it doesn't matter anymore. I hope deafgirl goes away. I hope she realizes how shitty she is. I hope she makes moves to correct that, and I hope one of those moves involves apologizing. But I won't get that. I think I already know.
It's all about context, right?
I don't fit in anymore.
Look, this is what hurts: I had a dream and it was taken from me. I can pinpoint the people that helped. One of them is dead. The other one is deaf. Strange how just one letter separates the two. And what about ex-otter? What about me? Yeah, we're the obvious players. Of course we wrought our own demise; but remember, there was a lot of help.

So now I look for love in other places. I find cocks and cunts and whatever I can get my hands on. I tried this relationship thing, and I'm just not ready for that kind of seriousness. I care about Steel, he cares about me, but ... you know. You know.

At this point and time there is nothing left for me to do but deal. And wait.

I will learn the art of patience.

nothing static

He loves me in the expected way, like I love him. It is, "I'm not totally in love with you. I don't know if I ever will be." Why are we the same emotionally? How can two people who are so alike at a complete base level be so different in every other way? Is this the opposite of the rest of my relationships? I don't know. Who are these people I attract? Who are these people that attract me?

He likes my eyelashes. How long have I waited to hear something like that?

It seems melancholy and melodramatic, these tiny things I want to know. Because I love small things about people. I like the set of the jaw, the taper of the ankle, callouses on hands, hair on feet. I like freckles in strange places and eyes that slightly slant up at the outside corners. Hipbones. Rib cages. The cadence of a laugh. Smile creases. A smile is everything.
I want to say more, I want to continue a description but it's written all over me. Anything that is done tugs at me. I am not my own person anymore. A little piece of me belongs to him, even if it's a tiny sliver. I think that's ok. I think hearts can regenerate, if the scar tissue isn't too thick.

My obsession is love. Sex is a substitute until I can fully give myself to someone again. This was a trial run, and I know I'm not ready yet. But it was necessary. I needed to know.
Thank you for your kindness and patience, openness and honesty.

You've made such a difference.

the brain slowly purges

I can't not hate you.
I don't not love you.

Why can't you leave me in peace?

I'd think the three months of silence would have helped. I'd think telling all our mutual acquaintances to not speak your name in my presence would ease the pain. I'm sure it has. But the fact remains that it's been seven months and I still wish I had a hatchet to forcibly remove from your chest what you took from me.

Things have changed in a drastic way. I know it has for me, but for you it's been considerable. I don't know this because anyone has told me. I don't know this because I have seen you. I don't know this in any way a person other than me could understand. I know it because I know it. I know because a strand still connects the two of us. Thankfully it's getting weaker all the time. There will always be a part of me that misses that connection in a way I can't articulate. I will long for it differently than the way I have longed for others. Right people, wrong time. What if I'd been the one to come by after the death of your brother? I mean, what if?

I can't not hate you. I can't not wonder. I can't not wish bad things upon both your heads. When I can think without grief for my own loss; when your loss far overshadows mine; then I will be able to mark how far I have come. Then I can make eye contact again and not cry over it when I'm alone in bed.

I wonder if I'll ever hear from you unbidden?

I don't think I care too much about whether or not you think of me. Not anymore. You are so far gone I can feel the air between us. You're so far gone I can barely even see that you're there for the air to flow between us. I never thought you could remove yourself so completely from my life. You were the one who said you wanted to keep me in your life. I am bitter. I am bitter, but it gets better.

A part of me holds on. I can be fiercely devoted. You know I was to you. So protective. I can be terrifying. All the worse when I am scorned. I have trouble releasing my hard won loyalty.

That's the entire point, isn't it?

I hope I feel that way again someday, to someone who deserves it. To someone that can handle all the shit life throws.

Changing my mind sure is fun.
I am reversing every opinion.

something positive

One nice thing about today is I'm thinking more about Steel than ex-otter. This feels good.

these boots are made for being set on fire

Can you tell that I am all lies?
Can you tell that I am not the person I pretend to be? Not the person I used to be?
Can you tell that I wish I could feel the things I say?
Can you tell me where this is going?

I think we know. I think we both know.

No where.

I'm so tired today, baby, can't you pick me up in your car and take me to your place? We can lay in your bed and listen to music. I'll put my head on your chest and stare at the ceiling. Your hand will softly rub my hair and we'll sigh. Then it could rain and we could spoon and listen to your cat meow for attention. We could eat chinese take out and watch TV on your computer and have long, slow sex.
I ache for this.
I ache for the mundaneness of a sure thing. I want to find someone to be with; someone I don't have to worry about. Someone that is present but not ever-present.

Can we just be?
Can I just be?

I go back and forth. What am I doing? I would like to talk to him. I want to figure things out.

to continue

What is in the place where your heart used to be? Is it a hornet's nest, ready to swarm? When your true heart is finally crushed, will the creatures be released to sting those that hurt you? Will everyone pay in the end?

Take my stories from the mouths of others. Regurgitate the metaphors I lost. Get high and I think of you, I watch the screen come to life and I miss you. I always miss you.

I don't know what love is anymore. I say to my cat, "Luca I love you," and I'm not sure what that means. I feed her, and brush her, and clean her litter box, and pet her, and cuddle with her. I know that it feels good when she meows and jumps onto my shoulders. I know that I would be devastated if anything happened to her. I think that I would do anything for her, including go into massive amounts of debt. I do not want her to die. Is that love?

My social psychology professor said that there is no definition for love. It is basically whatever you think it is. Does Luca love me? She will walk on anyone's shoulders; put her paws up to anyone. She will rub against anyone's cheeks and lick anyone's face. Am I not special to her? Am I loved?

Sometimes I want to say, "I love you" out of habit. I am so used to having someone to tell that. Ex-otter and I would say it all the time. Everyone I have been with, it was a constant phrase. But what does it mean? Is love putting someone else above your own interests? Is love some kind of understanding? Unrequited love, how does that even happen? I've been there. I've done that. I still don't get it.

I don't want to be where I am right now. Not this situation or this emotion. Or lack of emotion. Not sure if I really care about anyone or anything. Sometimes I am hollow and the emotions are the shell. But they don't touch the inside, they are the remnants of who I was and how I felt. How I would feel if I was someone that could feel. Sometimes I am alive. Mostly I am dead.

Waiting for someone that will not come.
Waiting for something that will not happen.
Patiently waiting for nothing.

I wish your heart was in a duck's egg so I could break it like you broke mine.

fuck you, I miss you

I want to be someone capable of love and monogamy.
I want to be two people; one of them stays with Steel and falls in love. The other one goes off and fucks. Fucks and deals and screams and cries and does all the emotional shit I don't want anymore.

you know exactly what I mean.

I don't want to see you and I don't want you to know where I am. I don't want you to know how I'm doing because I know every thing you say you feel is artificial. You are a fake. Every comment you make is a lie. You have told the truth so few times even you can't find it now. Did your brother's death make that easier? Did fucking me over hide yourself more? Did betraying me and turning into someone else grease the path to your destruction? Do you want to die?

I hold onto this for far too long. There is still an open window inside of me and I can't figure out how to shut it. The wind and rain blow through me. I am rotten. I am moldy. Parts of me are decayed. I have you to thank for forgetting. I have your ignorance and pride and selfishness. And me. Of course, I always have myself and all the little parts I played.

Do you dream about me? Do you wonder if I'm happy? I bet you don't. Is this unfair of me? In some ways, yes. Is it unfair of you to have done what you have done? Unequivocally. I destroy you with words when people defend any action you have ever made. I hope you lost your house. I hope you are digging a pit so far down you can't see the sky anymore.

I have only venom for those that hurt me. How can I trust anyone when so many people have left and betrayed me? How can I even move? How do I feel anything?

And you knew. You knew. I was with you through everything and to you it was still ok to desert me. I will never understand.

I said to buttercup, "I have to keep reminding myself that this happens everywhere, everyday. I am not alone. Much worse is happening even now." Yeah. It's true. Sometimes that makes me feel better. It calms me down. But it doesn't take the past away. I don't know what closure is.

Today, I hate you. I hate you because I miss you, and I hate that I have a reason to miss you. I hate that there is any reason at all for me to want you. But I do.

"Do you ever just hate yourself?" and Steel says, "no." "Have you ever wanted to kill yourself?" and Steel says, "no." He wants to know where these questions come from. I mean, he wants to know the story behind them. But I don't tell.
I don't think we have long term potential. What it's doing for me right now is refining what I think I need from a partner. He isn't it, but he's helping me figure it out. I don't love him. I am not convinced I ever will. At least not like a partner loves a partner. I could love him like a friend. I don't want to talk about the future.

Still looking for some kind of escape. Still looking for a way to dull this. Still looking for your face in every crowd and fearing that I may see it. Still waiting every day to hear from you. Still missing your voice and face and hands. I hate you. I love you. I miss you. I want you. I can not forgive you. You have done nothing to show that you even care.

Steel and I agreed that when people fuck up, it's what they do to make amends that matters. Ex-otter has done nothing. Ex-otter is shit. I am so angry. I am so sad. I am so jaded. I am so bitter. I hate and hate and hate

and it makes me hate myself.

I can't find the words to make you understand.

Most of the time I think you've spent your entire life pretending not to know the things you know by heart.

I despise loving you

I miss you, you fucking asshole.

Finally got you knocked loose from the forefront of my brain. You're in middle ground now, taking every opportunity to spring forward. Back the fuck up, baby. Go the fuck away.
I notice all the things I've changed about myself, partly because of the problems we had. But you know what? You're goddamn infuriating. I find myself thinking, "oh, maybe deafgirl is changing him for me. maybe steel is changing me for him." No. Fuck that. It's bullshit. I am where I am right now, and that is all. There is no future us. We have no divine destiny to meet in each other's arms, or at the end of each other's lives, or at any time, ever. You are dead. You let your brother kill you.

I hate everything that happened in regards to you and me and dru. I love being with steel, even if it's not all 100%. In fact, last night I dreamt I went to a party, got drunk, and had sex with some people. I was debating not even telling steel. I mean, how serious are we anyway? That was my logic in the dream. In real life? I would not think that way or act that way. If I cheat, I at least do it sober. I take responsibility. And I'm not a goddamn cheater.

Unlike some ex-otters I know.

Oh no, you didn't cheat on me physically. But you know what you did, you goddamn piece of shit. I want to destroy your name. I want everyone to know how badly you hurt me and how unnecessary it was. However, it's not some kind of cosmic event. People fuck each other over every day. People are hurt much worse than I am every day. Someday that will be you, hurting more than me. But the fact remains: in terms of human history, this was nothing new.

It was just unexpected. I remember your mom saying, "I know him well enough to know he wouldn't break up with you without talking about it with you first." HA! Man, was she wrong!

People, especially your family, have been wrong about a lot of things. Wrong about dru. Wrong about you. You have been such a disappointment. You don't know nearly as much as you think, or as deeply, or as well. You're a little boy trapped in a man's body stuck in a life that you're trying to convince yourself you like. You had such potential. You had such a beautiful brain. You were so creative. Why are you wasting it? Why are you with someone "easy," "comfortable," and "not-challenging?" Am I being judgemental? Do you recognize yet that you are also a selfish, judgemental, self-serving, asshole? Probably not. You have a remarkably poor sense of who you are. It always surprised me how little you actually know about yourself. You are so full of shit.

The anger stage of grieving. I hate this one but, other than acceptance, it's the best one. It's me not wanting you. I like how that feels.

If I could feel nothing for you, I would. Believe me, it would be a relief.

look behind you. no, the other you.

Had my quiet storm. Made it through. Can I sleep now? Can I not dream?
I wonder what Steel thinks a relationship is. To me it is sharing one's self physically and emotionally. He seems to just want to hang out and have sex. We have a nice time, and it isn't really all just physical. We talk. We smile. You know, those things. But I am attracted to intellect as much as I am to physicality. I can't enjoy one without the other. He seems to think it's difficult to talk to someone in between the times he sees them. This I do not understand. Doesn't he want to know how I'm doing? What is a relationship to him? Hell, what's the point if it's only ever in person and you only see that person twice a week?

I mean, I've had flings I've seen more often than that. And they talked to me more in between.

Buttercup thinks it's good for me to date someone. I trust his opinion; he's one of the few that I trust. Steel is sweet, but what does he want? When my brother heard I was dating a musician, he said, "uh oh." What does that mean? Crazy and inconsistent? Flighty and self-absorbed? Busy and cocky? I don't know.

He's trying, as of today. I heard from him this morning AND this afternoon. More than he's ever initiated before. I felt very good because of it. Does this mean I'm dependent on someone? I don't think I am. Do I really need constant reassurance? Maybe. I think I just like being reminded that someone cares about me. I felt better yesterday when Bones said she loves me. Bones always loves me. That's why she's my best friend. I'm not dependent on her. I know I don't depend on Steel. How can I?

I am a little upset, I suppose. I am upset because I've been dreaming about ex-otter and I don't feel comfortable talking to Steel about it. I don't want to start another relationship that immediately involves me dealing with my most recent ex. I said, "clean slate" to buttercup. His reply? "What does that mean?"

grieving process

I don't want to feel conflicted and I don't want to look for him. With all his trails, he could have totally disappeared. There is nothing to tie me to him that cannot be ignored. Easily.
I hate him so much sometimes.
I hate this trauma and I hate myself. I hate every thing that I have ever done. I can feel nothing in the center of myself, and I hate that too.
I still have dramatic, imaginary conversations with him. I have to interrupt that process though. It doesn't lead anywhere. It isn't happening and it isn't going to happen and I'm pretty sure most of the things I say in my head aren't true.

This is what it comes down to: I hurt. I don't know what to do with it. I don't want to hurt anymore and I don't want to talk to anyone but my therapist about it. I try sometimes, but never go as far as I feel. I'm not sure what to say, anyway. I feel left behind. betrayed. empty. I miss him. Still. It's June. He left me in December. That seems so long ago, but I remember January clearly.

I stood alone on the top of that pavilion in Florida as 2008 turned to 2009. I in my ludicrous dress, trying to call him over and over again. He became someone else and I was still clinging desperately to the person I loved. The person that, once upon a time, would have answered.
I remember crying as I watched the fireworks coming from six different directions (or was it eight?). I remember all my little rituals, the things I said because it felt right, the patterns I walked, the words I whispered. Tears I shed. None of it did anything. I wonder how delusional I am.

He doesn't fucking know what heart break is. I hope he learns. I hope he learns and I get to know. It's so selfish, wanting to hurt the ones that hurt you. Sometimes I think I cling to the pain because it's my last link to him. Sometimes I don't think about it at all.

I am stuck.

I miss him. What would I do if I heard from him? I don't know. I wonder if I can turn off who I used to be. I wonder if I can come back to the present and put to use everything these months have taught me.

I wonder what love will feel like, if I get to feel it again.

Waves of grief. The tide is in and I am buried to my chest in the sand. I am looking forward to the water going out again. I can't wait to breathe.