a new year stalks me

once upon a time, I had a five year plan. I would finish school, marry ex-otter, and we would move to oregon. roughly in that order. but things change, and people die, and some move on, and others linger. resolutions are made, and when followed through, can hurt.
and that's how I found out ex-otter and deafgirl got married.
I think back on my predictions and I just don't care. they should be happy, right? they aren't bad people just because I got hurt two years ago. if every person that hurt someone else was "bad," then this world would be populated by monsters.
huh.
I'm a monster, too.
I made a resolution to forgive the people that I felt had abandoned me. ex-otter is one of those people. I feel like I should be more sad than I am, but what's the point? holding a grudge is exhausting and self-defeating. it's so hard for me to let go; to let go of people, to let go of pain, to let go of anger, to let go of anything. but I'm so tired. tired of carrying this around with me.
in the end, it's all just people doing what's best for themselves. it's just that sometimes other people get in the way of the battering ram. hearts get broken. heads get muddled. insanity ensues.
I don't think he ever realized how much he hurt me, and to him it's all in the past. it's old news. but I still feel it. I remember.
to everyone that said they'd stay, then left, I forgive you.
to everyone that I left behind, for whatever reason, I forgive you.
to everyone that wouldn't fight for me, I forgive you.
to everyone that lied, I forgive you.
to everyone that left without explanation, I forgive you.
to everyone that felt too uncomfortable to talk to me, I forgive you.
to everyone, everywhere, I forgive you.

I want to start this year out right. There are a lot of people that won't let me reach out to them, and I forgive them too. I've done what I can do. I've made mistakes. I can't do anything but move on.
no matter how wronged I feel.
no matter how much I hurt.
life continues.
I must continue with it.

just getting it together

my friends always try to put shiny down, and I don't know why I continue to defend him. he isn't a bad person. he isn't malicious. he's one of the most intelligent people I know. seeing pictures of him or having him randomly mentioned still sends a twinge through my gut. I feel ragingly jealous when I think about him being happy without me, or having fun with someone else, or other such things. petty on my part.
but other than that, I don't feel much of anything anymore.
for anyone.
I have a crush on my new roommate, which is awkward but manageable. nobody knows. well, now you do. but I haven't actually talked to anyone about it. the sudden influx of interest people were showing in me died out as quickly as it came, and every one of those people was a flop. so yeah, it makes me miss shiny, but I wouldn't miss him as much if there was someone else to take his place.
that's what I tell myself. and sometimes it's true. and sometimes it's because of stupid shit: like how he was intuitively good at playing lego star wars. or his smile. or how he'd stroke my arm. or just how goddamn clever he was.
but it also feels like I make myself miss him, just for something to feel. an explanation for my emptiness, when really it's just always been there. I've never been happy solo. let's be honest here; I've never been happy at all.
I miss our bike rides. so what? I don't miss how shitty he was at communication, or starting conversation. I don't miss wondering the emotional walls he built all around himself. I don't miss the slump of his shoulders (especially when we were having sex) or how passionless he was about everything.
but ... how much does this matter anymore?
he hasn't initiated any contact with me since the last time I saw him. he hasn't responded to my last few attempts. he uses his interpretation of my words as an excuse to not talk to me. claims it's what he thinks I want, even though I haven't said that (and have, in fact, said the total opposite). and I wonder why I waste time thinking about this. and I wonder why it matters so much.
I guess because I really enjoyed the time I spent with him. and when we were together, there was no where else I wanted to be. in the past, that has been hard for me to find.
but things change, right?
I get angry at people for acting like people don't change, but here I am acting like I haven't changed. like because I used to let my eye wander, my devotion to shiny will never be found with someone else. but it happened once. it can happen again.
maybe I have changed.
I guess that's what I wanted. mutual devotion.
adoration.
joy.

I want right place, right person, right time.
I want the planets to align.

I want to find my little piece of forever.
I want faith.
I want love.

or lacking that, I want to be content with myself and being single.

just sayin'

miss you more than it makes sense
and I'm ashamed, I'm ashamed.
got my guts all twisted up
can't undo this mess.
now there's someone new that I can't touch
and it's painful every day.
I miss the quiet that you brought,
the stillness to my heart,
the way the beating ceased
for anyone but you.

you kept me safe
and have no idea
how deep your disservice runs.

and I have no idea
what it has been like for you
to love and not love me,
to be loved and hated
by me.

I am sorry, too.

it still hurts

if I was gonna be honest, I'd have to say that I still wish I'd hear from shiny.
I still feel sick from missing him. I still don't understand. and some part of me still wants him to call me and woo me and want me. some part of me still wants him more than anyone else.
and I want him to apologize, and explain that he realizes his behavior was fucked up and hurtful. I want to know what he was thinking and I want to know what he thinks now. but I know it doesn't matter and I should just let go again. I should forget about him.
it's so hard, though, when everyone else is even more disappointing than he was.
the fact remains that I love him.
but other facts remain, too.
you know, all the ones that keep him away from me.
the ones that are doing it now.
I get so melancholy.
I wish he was everything he seemed like he'd be.
I wish he was everything he let me believe.

when the changes cancel each other out, is that spectrum analysis too?

I know I should go to sleep but I just don't want to yet.
I scrubbed the ink from my fingers with a nail brush. I didn't need to, I just wanted to see if I could. I kept finding residue amid the lines of my hands. every time I thought I'd got it all, I would find more. small stamps of the passage of black. tiny memories in my cuticle bed. still nothing compared to the mess I left on the plastic over the table. a whole swampland of india ink.
for some reason, I have really been missing shiny this evening. this morning. it's always worst at night, in my bed, alone. the day is fine. but I still find myself bringing him up.
"I'm done with him," I told anu. "you've said that before."
"but this time is different. I've probably said that before, too. but I mean it."
how different is different?
well, I have a date tomorrow.
that's pretty different.
I want someone who thinks I'm more than cute and will tell me. I want someone who feels inspired by me. and will tell me. I want someone who loves to look at me (and will tell me). I want someone who likes my brain and how it works [and will tell me]. Do you see what I'm getting at? communicate the adoration, not just feel it.
I still miss him, and I hate it, but it gets easier the longer I go without hearing from him. The longer it goes with no response.
I'm simultaneously angry and sad. complacent and rebellious.
I don't chase people anymore, right?
it just ... I guess it stopped being worth it.
and there is so much more to love than the pursuit.
there is so much more to a relationship than waiting to see not when, but if the other person will call.
he was such a jerk to me.
he was such a jerk, and I knew it, and I just hoped it would change.
but I need to accept that what he could give me is not what I need.
I know what I was thinking by getting into all of it.
What I still don't understand
is what was he thinking?

that's the cruelest part of all:
why'd he have to drag me down, too?
and why the hell did I let him?

I let hope run me into the ground. Now I have to ride it back up.
how can good things turn out to be so bad?
how can bad things lead to such good?
I don't know, I don't know, but they do.

just sayin'

life has improved by leaps and bounds since I gave up on him.
I wish I'd done it sooner.

just some observations

when it came to sex, shiny and I fit together well. it felt nice. but it was rarely passionate on his side and it wasn't the best I'd ever had. it could have been. it is what I think I about when I want to get off, but that's because I loved him.
what makes sex really exceptional is how comfortable a person is with their own body, with the other person's body, and how excited they are about having sex. shiny had the comfort but not the excitement. he touched me the way I wanted to be touched, he moved against me well, and inside of me well, but he lacked excitement.
seems like his life, really. at least his life since I've known him. he has the actions down, but lacks all the emotion necessary to make it all worthwhile.
I meditate on this because it is my bane.
furthermore, it is no longer my problem ...
if it ever really was my problem at all.

those who seek the easy way are rarely satisfied with the result.
but good luck making them see that.

hey, who knows?

feels like another one of those nights where sleep will elude me. I'll just lay in bed and stare at the dark and wonder why the fuck I can't sleep ...
and I'll think about shiny
and I'll think about every other man that has hurt me
and I'll think about my friends that are no longer friends
and every mistake that I have made
and every action I wish I could take back
and it won't matter.
I won't sleep.
and when I finally do, it will last for twelve hours
and feel like only two.

Or maybe I'll just fall asleep immediately and it will be awesome.

it is in my brain now, can't take it out

it's the end of days and I wonder "how much do you miss me?"
each day that goes by without your name makes it easier and easier to let go. some said that it takes half the time you were together to get over someone. but that's such bullshit. we have been apart as long as we were together and only now do I feel ready to say goodbye.
and my exes, the other exes, it's pretty much the same for them. so those years I spent trying to forgive myself for all my transgressions ... I guess they do eventually pay off.
cat on my lap and did I mention that I think you might be a robot? yeah, I want to say hurtful things but as soon as they come to my brain now I wonder "why bother." so I don't bother. I don't bother anymore. not today, at least. there's not much to miss about you anymore that I couldn't just dream about anyway.
I don't feel much of anything right now.
your freckles, eyes, and lips. your hands, smile, and kiss. it doesn't matter that much anymore. they don't matter like they used to. I found them once and I suppose I can find it all in someone else, if that's something I feel like doing.
never trust anything sudden.
I'm sure I'll want you badly again in a couple of days, but right now I'm just glad to think you're a jerk that has no idea how to love.

bury me

I don't know why I twist myself around like this. I feel so lost and alone so much of the time. today I finally sold some masks. today i started the finishing process of the one that was going to be my halloween mask. today I watched a show on my laptop and paint-paint-painted and I felt the sense of comfort that I used to revel in when school had first started and I had weird breaks in my days that let me come home in between classes and work. I would come home and hang out with my cat and work on masks and eat food and be alone in a way that I liked.
I don't remember anymore what it's like to have close friends. I don't remember what it's like to spend a platonic day with someone that doesn't ever get on my nerves.
I can still remember what it's like to love without hurt, even though that's not my situation anymore.
I liked things being uncomplicated.
well, I guess things aren't very complicated anymore, anyway.
I just hate how, for a brief period, I thought things would be good again. and I was imagining how my life would be, how I'd be seeing shiny again and he and chick would get to meet and I dunno. I was figuring out how it would all work. now I don't have to worry about that or anything, really. I don't have to worry about anyone.
chick spent the weekend in my bed and we didn't touch and I liked it that way. we cuddled a little. he made me food. he took care of me and it was nice to have the company but it somehow made me miss shiny more. I wish I could combine the two of them. all chick's compassion and all shiny's calm.
I don't know. I don't know anymore. I don't know anything anymore.

the sky is falling

"end love" by okgo is my latest obsession. the lyrics speak too perfectly for me to ignore. it's all so relevant. shiny's not calling and he hasn't replied to my email (you know ... the one where I called him a failure. I wasn't expecting a reply, but I still hoped) but I still posted the song to his facebook, along with the lyrics.
I don't think I have anything else to say to him. I don't miss him like I used to. all I want to do all the time is tell him how much he's hurt me and how sad I am.
because the way he treated me wasn't fair. how he extended his hand to me at the stop lights, like I used to do to him when we were together? the way he held me and how he bought me ice cream? why did he cuddle up to me if all we are is friends? I don't treat my friends like that. I don't think he does either.
I want to smash his head against a brick wall until he breaks and sees what it is that he was doing. until his own wall breaks and he finally understands.
until he actually feels, you know?
until he knows what it is to want. he wants to want. and I want to make him. I want him to want me to stop hurting. and I want him to do something about it.
and I don't think he will.
and I don't think there's much left to say.

a letter I can't send

dear mom,
I bet you would be surprised to find out how often I think about you and how much I miss you, considering how little we talked previous to dru dying two years ago. even after that, I still wasn't consistent with my calling. to be fair, though, you gave up on me too. I don't think people ever got to hear that side of things. people look at me as the negligent daughter, but not you as the negligent mother. after all, you called my sister every day. you rarely called me.
but mom, I don't hold it against you too much. you were always closer to her. I've always been a little distant from everyone, I guess. I always felt a little out of place no matter where I was. and I hated feeling guilty and calling you always reminded me of how long it had been since last we'd talked. and things had been so bad with me for so long ... I just didn't want to call until I had something good to say. and when I did, I would call, and I would tell you.
the thing is, I thought about you a lot before you died, too. you have never been far from me. there have always been daily reminders. I wish that I had told you that when you could have appreciated it. I wish I would have touched you more, and told you more, and been a more attentive daughter. but I wasn't. and now it's too late.
that isn't what I wanted to say, though. I wanted to say that there are times in my head that I wish I was still in the hospital with you, just so I could talk to you. so I could soothe you. I wasn't there enough either. all my life, I've always felt like I was lacking and like I wasn't doing enough. it confuses me when people tell me that I push myself too hard or I expect too much of myself because to me, I'm never doing enough. I'm never at the peak of my potential.
I wish I'd been more patient with you.
I wish I could be more patient with myself. with everyone.
for so many years I didn't feel like I could have a real relationship with you. I am so glad that I was eventually able to, even if it wasn't long enough. I really needed you right before you died, but I never got the chance to talk to you about it. I never got to tell you about my old boss that had died. because then you died, less than a month later.
I think about you being in the hospital. I think about being there with you. I think about how much things have changed in the six months since then. this is still so hard to handle. I have withdrawn more from everyone than I have ever done before in my life. mom, why?
every time I left, I thought you would be getting better. I thought I'd come back to improvement. but no. I think it's better this way for you, but it fucking sucks for the rest of us.
I guess what I wanted to do was say that I miss you and I wish I was still around you and I'm sorry I wasn't a better daughter.
I love you, so very very much.
I wish I'd worked harder at making that clear.

it isn't poetry, just disjointed like it was in my brain

I can be cruel
but my cruelty is intentional
unlike some people
who lead me on
because they felt inspired
by a comic book.

inspired to believe in love
that they cannot actually feel
just because it seemed
like a good idea
at the time.

I used the phrase:
"miserable and alone and basically a failure"
and felt bad about it
but not bad enough
to not hit send.

everyone that hurts me
gets hurt in return.
sometimes I get to do the hurting.
sometimes they do it themselves.
and sometimes,
just sometimes,
it's a combination of the two.

the worst part about hurting someone is not knowing the pain you have caused.
I bleed from every wound I've ever inflected on someone else.
I punish myself more soundly than anyone could ever punish me.
and in the end, it still doesn't matter.

I would have made a great martyr.

sometimes I wonder if he doesn't have it right by doing the coward thing, the emotionless thing, the alone thing. sometimes I wonder if his way of living isn't better. never looking ahead, never looking behind, just being where you are. making the same mistakes over and over and over ... I can do that anyway, even with the fore- and hind-sight.
I just want to grow into someone better. be part of something bigger.
I can't seem to stop getting hung up on these little stupid things.

sometimes I hate myself so much that it's tangible.

tired of being clever

I guess what surprises me most
is how surprised I was.
I let my guard down. because he fucked me, I thought that meant he wanted me. every man I have been with has somehow managed to disappoint me by thinking with his dick. I always think they're different, that this will be the one to break the mold. I always end up wrong.

I wrote this in the art center, just before my bike ride home: I brought you presents
you broke my heart
I said "I love you"
you said "I know"
you once consumed me
now I dribble down your chin
unnoticed
unwanted
unsure.

He bought me a movie ticket. he bought me food. I told him that I hated him. he actually looked hurt.
I am doing that thing my sister said I do. I have put up a wall and have cut myself off from my emotions until I'm in a place where I can deal with them. Sometimes that's minutes. sometimes it's years.
"your inability to think ahead never ceases to amaze me." I was so mean to him, almost every chance I could get. but they were true things. they were all true things.
he takes it. he always takes it, with that mona lisa expression. never can tell what he's thinking. hard to know when he doesn't, either.
so angry. so hurt.
I feel my brain's blockade go up.
I need better than this. I need passion, and foresight, and initiatory openness. someone who will talk about sex. someone who notices the freckles on my eyelids. he told me that I'm not pretty. I'm cute. and I resent that.
I hate his eyes because I loved to look at them. I hate his stupid sooty eyelashes and how soft they were. I hate the lines in his irises and how they bisected each other and how distracted I would get by them. I hate his lips and their fullness. his slightly meso-american features. I hate them. I hate his long thin fingers and the way they'd dance across me. I hate his playfulness. I hate his obedience. I hate his goddamn freckles and the way they lay across him like galaxies. I hate his strong legs and his ribcage and everything else I'll never touch again. I hate the way he kissed me because it was better than everyone else, ever.

but really I hate that he wasn't willing to do as much for me as I was for him.
I hate that he didn't want to share everything with me like I wanted to with him. every inconsequential event of my life. every drawing, every dream, every drama. and I wanted him by my side for everything.
I hate him for not wanting me the way that I wanted him.
I hate him for letting me think, even for the briefest of moments, that he could.
I hate him for being close to, but not quite, perfect.

and behind it all, I know it's not that I hate him. I hate me. I hate that I need someone to share myself with. I hate that nobody that I want, wants me. I hate all my self-pity and how little good it does. it's gotten me nowhere good.
and I don't do what I say I'll do
and I just disappoint myself
and I'm unreliable
and mostly I just wish I could die and leave the water un-rippled.

but I can't.

twisted like knotted rags

I try to hide how stuck on him I am. I don't try very hard, but it's definite that no one knows how often I really think about him.
here's the answer: all the time.
everything I want to do, I want to do with him beside me. it's been a long time since I've felt so cemented to someone, especially when it's not expressed to be mutual. it's been a while since I've wanted to be around someone more than they seem to want to be around me.
I use these indefinite terms because I'm still not sure how he feels. the depths of me maintain that he does want me and all of me. but I can't ever listen fully to that voice. I can't give up my skepticism. if I do, then I'll be lost completely. if I do, then I open myself up again to so much hurt.
and we're not together anyway.
I'm not just a friend to him.
no matter how hard he tries to believe that.

someday you'll remember

I can't fucking sleep. thinking about just staying up all night and sleeping on my little train/bus hops. we'll see.
I'm not wracked with worries. not consciously, at least. sure, I have them. money (always money, doesn't matter how much I have, I'm always worried about it), finding roommates, my health, my back, getting my meds, my attitude, how much I've changed since my mom died (and how it hasn't all been for the better), my brother's increasing emotional distance from me and how much it sucks, shiny ... of course.
and there's food and my bike and my cat and my room and my apartment and and and and and...
a lot of things. people things. normal things. things that will work out, or won't, but it will pass at some point. right?
no, that's not what's keeping me up.
want to know what is? of course you do. you're reading this journal. if you didn't want to know shit like this, you wouldn't keep reading. who are you, anyway? I can see everyone's location and IP address so I can already infer who you are. why not just tell me?

I'm currently being kept up by the thought of making stencils so I can make shirts with words on them. I want to have squares of stencils and keep the cut outs so I can do two layers of letters. One of the outline, one of the inside (inside? whatever, it's past 1am, leave me alone). The shirt that I want to make first would say "I WON'T REMEMBER YOU" because that will at least kill the expectation people have of my memory. I will use mylar, and make squares of letters about 3" high. I will make multiples of some letters. It will be great. So I've been thinking about the logistics of that. How it would look. How to make the stencils work (negative space in the O .. I generally put a break in the O so that the center piece will stay in for the stencil. but when it's cut out, I'll need to tape the breaks back together. same with the A, etc). The process of making them, and then making the shirts. that sort of thing.
and yes, that is consuming my brain.
Of course, that came on the end of a train of thought that was leaping from track to track faster than I could follow. I won't even try to explain it.

switch.
trying to have a serious conversation with shiny is like trying to get a cat to do something. sometimes they do it, but only if THEY want to. and it has very little to do with you.
so I told him "stop using silliness as a way to avoid thinking or talking about real things." And now I'm thinking that this is a race to see whether he'll relent or I'll crack and stop caring.
he doesn't deny these observations I make. he agrees that he does these things. sometimes he tries to change. does it happen? I don't know.
my sister says he reminds her too much of our brother. I understand what she means. but at least shiny is trying to change. and he doesn't resent people.
I guess she just doesn't want me saddled to someone who will, ultimately, never make me happy. but I think he could. if he wanted to.
cats again.

oh, my stupid, noisy, smart, over-thinking, over-analyzing brain. please just shut up and let me sleep. there are things I have to do in the morning.

like get back to reality.

I want to know where this is going but am scared to find the answer

on friday he came to see me like he used to. met me at 3:30 at my apartment. we hugged and went inside and we so nicely behaved.
dinner. and then to see some music.
I touched him, but I tried to not do it too much. it's hard for me to be near him and not touch. it was .. you know .. nothing sexual. I poked his leg. his arm. thumb-wrestled. leaned on his shoulder. he played back a little.
that night he beckoned me to lay beside him on the couch under my bed. I did. he put his arms around me. he held me. I tried to think nothing of it. I tried not to analyze his every movement. tried not to determine what it meant.
we kept cuddling. so close. so warm. playful. I kept my brain at neutral. I wanted more but wouldn't pursue it. self-control. a rarity. but I wanted to keep him near and knew I couldn't let go if I wanted him to stay.
we went to bed. he said he was cold and held me tightly, curled his body around mine. something happened. it was a slow progression. it was movement and warmth. it was fingers and palms. it was a delicious tension that I hadn't felt since the first time we ever connected physically.
it started happening again, and I stopped him, and I said, "what are you doing?"

and we talked a little.
and we tried to calm our breathing.
but I felt his heart beating so heavily against me.
the warmth of his mouth.
his alternating soft and hardness pressed against and around me.
I suppose we must have slept at some point. but I woke up only a few hours later and took back all of my convictions.

he said, "sometimes it feels like I have a different brain."
he said, "sometimes I love you and sometimes my brain doesn't love you."
and I said that you can't predict emotions.
I said, "most of the time I love you but sometimes I think I hate you. maybe sometimes I do hate you."
because it's true. sometimes I do.

the polar opposites. one extreme blends into another. so cold it burns. but does heat ever freeze? can hate turn into love anywhere outside of hollywood?
I don't know. one passionate moment leads to another.
and I love him. and I told him. and for the first time it felt like he was talking about himself, saying things that he hadn't told anyone else. telling me things about how he felt.
in the morning, he pulled me to him, he did things to me that he didn't used to initiate quite so forcefully. it felt so good to be held by him.
and all weekend it was almost like we were together again. but I couldn't let go completely. I couldn't give in to the feeling because at the end of it I knew sunday would come and he would take the train home and uncertainty would set back in.

we've been apart for almost as long as we were together.
puppy once asked me how shiny managed to make such an impression in such a short amount of time.
there are more reasons than I have time for answers.
I think I'd start the explanation with my mother. he was there when no one else was. then I'd follow that up with an examination of how he manages not to trigger any of my delicately balanced neuroses. there are things about him that seem to have been custom-formed for me. other things, not so much, but they're so minor they don't matter.
my mom said she liked him.
when she first got sick and I broke up with shiny, I didn't tell her what happened. I didn't want her to feel responsible.
so much has happened.
it felt so good to be back with him this weekend.
sometimes I think that if I can keep a careful distance, then he will come back to me. he is stubborn and has to figure things out on his own. because even if he's right for me, that doesn't mean I'm right for him.
but I want him, I want him, I want him so badly.

for the first time in a long time, it felt like he wanted me too.

hope
is terrifying
when you don't know where it will take you.

"cautiously optimistic."
I want to scream it out at nothing.

my monkey's paw

maybe all I'll ever be is some cat who wants everything without having to give anything
maybe I'll only ever be some selfish ass who blames external forces for their misery instead of their own self-destructive spiral
maybe I'll never find someone to suit me because I will only ever want what I do not have
but I don't think that's true
and this has been a hellish year
and I started it sick
and my mom died
and I had my heart broken
and I realized how alone I have made myself
and I missed three weeks of school
and I delayed my graduation
and I keep trying to take care of myself but somehow it's never enough
I am never well
and I swear that after this malady, after this ache is gone, then things will be ok, no matter what
because how can it be any other way?
sometimes the only way I can muster hope is through the thought that this will end
this will pass
and I remember stories of people who have been reunited with lost loves or friends tens of years after a fight
and I hope that happens to me.
that all these people that are missing from my life will somehow return
but I don't know.
maybe I'm better off without them.
I don't think so.
maybe it's more that they're better off without me.
I get sick of my own instability. I imagine it's ever worse from the outside.
but I still dream about them
and about reconciliation
sometimes complete, but usually partial
and I dream about my mother
asking her for advice I don't really need
and I think back on this year, this horrible year,
with more bad days than good
and I realize that the majority of the good days came in those few months that I was with shiny
that he was the only glimmer in this year of darkness
and without him I don't know if it would have been better or worse
because what is a hole without the comparison of the ground?
but how would I have handled anything without the support I found in his presence?
there's no way to know now.
no way to know anything.

my mom's birthday is in two days.
she would have been 60.
eleven years ago, without a phone call, I would have been dead on the same day.
these wicked deaths.
last year I said that I looked forward to the day when I thought of november 19 as my mom's birthday rather than the anniversary of my suicide attempt.
well, that day has come.
I wish I could take it all back.

I wish the universe had found another way to change that day for me.

quoting myself

there are a lot of things I'd like to talk about. the physical pain, emotional pain, mental pain. I get so sick of all the pain. I am so sick of this year. but january 1 is only symbolic. it doesn't really mean anything. just a measurement of time.
I want to believe that there will be some end to the ridiculousness that is my life. an end that doesn't require me ending it. I want to believe that I'll be able to talk about my mom to someone some day. that I will find someone who loves me like I love them. that I will finish school and get a meaningful job. I will have a routine and it will be good for a while. I will have friends. I will make things. I will not have unreasonable financial burdens and my insurance will actually cover my medications.
I would like to go a year without tragedy. some year where things don't have to be stupifyingly amazing and everything's-going-my-way, but just where nothing overly bad happens. there are so many people out there that already have that. they don't even realize it. there are things I have that I don't think about, either. there are people that would gladly trade their trauma for my stupid life.
but, you know, this isn't about them.
I have dreams that I am scared to articulate. hopes I can't share in case my words break them. shiny called me tonight and it's a struggle not to start a "real" conversation with him. you know, about feelings.
I wrote him a long email a few days ago. he never replied, but I keep hearing from him like nothing happened. like I wasn't trying to turn his head inside out. like I wasn't trying to make him run away.
of course, the reason I don't talk about feeling is because I don't want to scare him off. I feel like I'm holding paper thin ice and it's a race to see which happens first: the breaking or the melting.
if I could find someone to run to, I would.
if I could leave him, I would do it in a heart beat.
but you don't understand. I can't let him go, and no one that I want wants me. he was with me in the hospital when my mom was sick. he was with me when she died. on the weekends, for weeks afterwards, he held me at 2am when I randomly started sobbing. you can't understand that connection until you've felt it. I don't think he feels it. I felt it with ex-otter when dru died, even if ex-otter didn't feel it with me. or maybe it was because I reminded him of that death that he left.
I feel so mixed up all the time. I don't want my mom to be dead. I don't know how to accept it. I want to call her to say that I miss her, but she isn't there to call anymore. it's as simple as that.
so much depends on a telephone call. didn't you know that?
sure, shiny broke up with me. but he has never left me.

you don't know what to make of it

I wonder if he'll call me tonight. it's been days. couldn't say for sure. sometimes he texts me, but it's just not enough. and I told him. he apologizes so much now, but it hasn't changed his behavior.
back ache like I was taken apart and put back together wrong. the pieces don't mesh. there's a scraping between the parts, bulges where there weren't before. I have knots that won't go away. and it feels like my muscle has been replaced with something denser and less forgiving. I feel heavier from the pain.
when anu dug his knuckles into the hard parts, I felt nothing. "it will feel better in 20 minutes," he said. but it doesn't. it's just sore and aching and red. it feels red.
when chick rubbed my back and left me with my heating pad, I awoke feeling so much better. today, that didn't work. I wince to think what tomorrow will be like.
muscle spasms. maybe that's what my chest does sometimes. it can't be massaged away. nothing breaks these knots apart. I'm not sure what to do.
ibuprofen every 6 hours. a heating pad. carry less on my back. how am I supposed to do that?
I wonder if he still loves me.
all this weight, all this weight.
I don't know what to do.

of course I know what I'm doing

I'm leaning on him until he pushes me away.
I'm not very observant with that sort of thing, though, so he'll have to be pretty fucking clear.

insomnia again

text message conversation between shiny and myself:

"I was hoping you'd check up on me today. Why didn't you?"
"I was planning on calling you. I was lifting weights and then helping move furniture and then stuff. I didn't realize it had gotten so late."
*calls me, I don't answer*
"I don't really know if there's any point in talking to you tonight. I am disappointed."
"Okay, sorry, Little Face."
"Please don't call me pet names anymore, shiny. You know they don't mean anything to you and they just hurt me."
"Okay. Sorry, Tugboat."
"I just wish you would think, you know?"
"I know. Sorry."

how many times can I expect different results from the same situation? it doesn't happen. he's like a metronome. steady and unwavering so why do I expect him to suddenly change tempo?
it gets worse at night. I lay in bed and try to focus on my breathing and slow my racing heart, but nothing helps. I find myself concocting suicide plans. I think I have a pretty good one. But I have to wait, you know? I have to see my sister and her family and my dad again first. I have to remind them how much I love them.
I find the thought of dying to be a comfort. the absolute darkness is soothing. not soothing enough to lull me to sleep, apparently, but soothing enough to slow my crazy thoughts. I guess what I would want is for people to understand that I'm deeply sad and have been for a long time. I can't remember a time in my life when I wasn't depressed and I can't imagine it ever being otherwise. I am not in love with this world. I am so sick of being scared all the time and worried and alone. Change is full of little deaths but after a while you can't change anymore so the death just takes you instead.
yeah, angsty and high-schoolish, but true for me.
it feels like I don't belong. I have never belonged. I was just able to ignore it a little better before. but since this year .. since all this shit .. it is so clear to me that I can't hide it anymore.
I feel closer to death than I have since I was 18 and swallowed all those pills. that was almost 11 years ago. on my mom's birthday.
november 19.
I just want to finish this year.
I wonder if I can finish this year.

overwhelmed and underworked

just around midnight, I texted shiny to see if he was still awake. "yes sir" was his reply. I asked him if we could talk and he called me immediately.
"I just need someone that doesn't lie to me to tell me things will be ok." He did so. but I didn't believe it.
I told him that I want to die. that I've been trying to figure out the way to do it so as to inconvenience the least amount of people. "my mom died and life kept going. the same thing would happen if I died." I told him that right now the only reason I'm not dead is because of my cat. and I don't want my roommate to find me dead. that goes with the whole "inconveniencing people" thing. I told him that I don't know what I'm doing. that I have no effect on anyone. That I'm alone and have been my entire life. that my life has been bad punctuated with good instead of the other way around.
and I'm tired, so tired, and dreams are the only thing that feel real to me. no matter how crazy they get, they still feel more honest than the waking world.
people have such strange images of me. I'd like to meet someone who sees them all and sees through it and knows who I am. I'd like for someone to know me like I know me, and to love me for it. but I don't think that person exists, and I can't keep looking anymore. there just isn't any point.
I'm so tired of being sick. I'm so tired of getting sick. I'm tired of the winter. I don't think I can take another one in this town. I can't take the darkness at 4pm or the cold so bitter that it makes my eyes water when I step outside. I can't take these sleepless nights or the heating pad on my feet. I can't take the hibernation and the potholes and the skidding tires of my bike.
the people I need, bones and buttercup and ex-husband and the like, don't call or contact me. only the desperate do. I only hear from shiny in response, not from initiation. bear is gone. wizard is gone. beard is gone. everyone everyone everyone except chick and puppy and those are just complicated in simplistic ways. situationally complicated, not emotionally complicated. there is no one in providence that I hear from every day. no one my age that cares and makes the effort. sometimes I reach out and try and it just dies out. friendship is a two way street. I fall into old habits. I can't get close to anyone without being in love with them. shiny keeps me raw and doesn't even know it.
he doesn't know what to say or how to comfort me.
I don't know either.
sometimes there just aren't any words.
I guess "please don't die" would have been a good start.
but all he gives me is silence.

stating the brain-case

there's a sound outside my window and I'm not sure what it is. the wind softly blowing something against the glass. and I worry that I've missed autumn because of pneumonia. and I worry that I'll go straight into snow without getting to winterize my bike. and I worry that I'll never catch up in school. and I worry that I'll never find someone with whom to share mutual love. I don't have new roommates yet, and mine is moving out soon. no prospects. nowhere to go.
sometimes I feel so hopeless. I am so far behind.
I'm going to be 30 in five months. it sounds so much older than I am. so much older than I live. but then I think of friends that I have that are older than I am and still live young and I feel a little relieved. when I was 25, it was strange to realize that at that age, my sister already had three kids. married. a cat. a house.
I have a loft in a rented apartment with a roommate I met on craigslist. and she's leaving and I don't have anyone to replace her.

I have high standards and I'm not currently meeting them. there is so much going on that my brain seizes up and doesn't let me process it. I am left with a blankness in my mind. and sometimes I forget to break it down and pursue the things I need to do. and sometimes I just shut down completely.
in the face of all these stressors, I do something else completely unrelated.
whenever I am faced with options I cannot choose between, I pick one that wasn't even initially on the radar.
I wonder where that will leave me.
Hell, I don't even know what my options are right now.
I'm just holding on with my eyes closed, hoping that when my grip finally gives out there will be something to catch me.
not sure if there's anything else to do.

maybe someday my lungs will work again

I feel like I should be upset or care more than I do that I haven't heard from him. Last night I sent him a text saying, "Meow? I don't think we're going to get back together, fyi. I just like being around you and cuddling. You're comforting. Goodnight." I wonder what he thought I meant by it. I wonder if he felt anything.
I suppose I'm coming to terms with things being over. He doesn't want me. I saw that this past weekend. There was a distance there, a wall between us. It's a barrier he created. I wonder if he used to lie to me when he said that he was excited about me. I wonder if he just made himself believe those things because he thought that he should. I wonder what he was thinking.
I think the problem is that he didn't think. Once he did, he knew he had to leave. And he hasn't thought again since. Not much, anyway.
I miss a lot of things about him, sure. I miss a lot of things about a lot of people, but here I am, continuing on. I had such a good time with him. Why couldn't it have lasted?
Maybe I'll find someone someday. Maybe I won't. I don't feel much for anyone these days. I don't feel much at all.
This summer, a part of me went away. I don't think it's ever coming back. This year has systematically dismantled me. From the PID to Pants to finally falling in love to my mom dying to losing that love and now finally to pneumonia. and through it all, feeling that I'm gradually losing everyone. I'm closer to my sister now. Further from my brother. I feel so much older. Sadder. Beaten down, in a deeper, more lasting way than ever before.
Everything hurts. And nothing touches me.
I just want this to be over.

it wasn't where I left it

"you came to me like a dream, the kind that always leaves. just as the best part starts, it ends so abruptly and leaves you stunned and naked, in your bedroom all alone. funny how something so soothing gets interrupted by the ring of a telephone."
I slept better last night than I have in weeks. shiny was beside me in the bed, curled against the wall. I reached out and touched the soft fabric of his shirt. "that's my back," he said. "I know."
he made me tea and heated up soup and rubbed my head. it seems like I should feel more conflicted than I am. as we walked through the park, a friendship distance between us, I thought, "so this is how it's going to be."
it's going to be him visiting and us cuddling and me wanting him so badly that I can't talk because I'm afraid I'll say that magic phrase that will push him away. the phrase that will make him think this is a bad idea. I don't know if what I feel means I'm missing him. it's more like longing. or abject complacency.
I will never have what I want because what I want is him. and every time he rubbed his foot against mine or put his hand on my arm, I had to remind myself that it meant nothing. I had to remember him saying, "I don't want you."
I can't look into his eyes and ask him to say that. it would hurt too much.
in my little fantasy world, we begin to hang out again on some weekends. he would let himself feel again. he would kiss me. he would kiss me and hold me and we would be together again and this fucking hollowness would go away. and I wouldn't hurt or want to hurt anyone. I just ... I want to be ok. and I want him to be ok. and I want him to want the way that I do. want until it feels like nothing else matters; want until it consumes everything but the object of attention; want until it feels like there's no other possible outcome but to obtain the point of desire, and to have anything less would be giving up or death.
it had never occurred to me before that everyone doesn't feel that way.
change, any change, is death. I've known that since high school,before I could understand what I was feeling. I would lay in bed in agony and wish that I would die because the change hurt so badly.
but it would come, and it would pass, and I would still live.
live to see another change, when all I wanted was to die.
and in my fantasy world I finally reach the point where I can either die or be happy because those are the only two options. I'd rather live and be happy. content. reach that magic spot that doesn't exist. the place where things level out and I find my rhythm. I get my routine. and I love it.
but no, that doesn't exist.
instead I get these shades of grey. I get shiny coming to my house and letting me hold him like he was still mine. I get him calling me when I'm in the hospital. I get him singing to me. but it doesn't mean anything more than friendship to him. and I have to remind myself over and over that he doesn't want me. he cares, he loves, but he doesn't desire.
I just can't imagine living like that. I guess I'll have to, if I want to keep him in my life.[and isn't that the way chick and I are? but we never dated and we were never in love. so the mutuality matters? apparently so.]
I see my life unfold like a mottled grey quilt stretching over and covering obstacles. I see the bumps and valleys. I see this colorless mass and I read the story within it. I will be in love with him. we will see each other until one of us stumbles onto someone else. and I will always wonder why things didn't work. and I will always wish it was him, and not whoever I was with instead.
and maybe I've felt this way about everyone that I have loved. but I don't think so.
and I wonder if anyone's ever felt that way about me.
I wonder if anyone's ever been entirely taken by my elbows. if anyone has ever had a crush on the arch of my foot. if anyone has ever missed me so much that their arms tingled. I don't know. but that's what love is to me.
the entire time I was with ex-husband, I never got tired of watching him breathe.
four years of witnessing the expansion and deflation of a person's ribcage. it would make me ache.
always hands. always lips. always teeth. worn, full, weird. slender fingers with deep creased palms. softness to make me sigh. jagged points that I could run my finger across.
ex-otter used to bite me like he was eating. it wasn't sexual. ex-husband, too. I would let him chew on my finger. I liked the way it felt and I liked the trust involved. I would bite too hard, though. I've never had the same level of self-constraint as the people I have dated.
it's autumn.
I feel the grey skies keenly. I feel the trees baring themselves to winter. I feel it and I lock it inside of myself to deal with later. that's what this year has brought me. it opened up the boxes I used to keep hidden in my chest. I have been dealing and dealing and dealing and no wonder I am so emotionally exhausted.
being honest is such hard work.

starting before ending

dryness in my lungs. I cough and it does nothing. burning sensation in my chest. I get winded. I am defeated.
last night I dreamed that I saw ex-otter at a punk rock show. he was wearing clothes that were mine. I kicked him in the shins and told him to give me back what he was wearing. he did. later, sitting on some bleachers, I tried on the clothes. they didn't fit me like they used to. I didn't really want them anymore. I just didn't want him to have them.
my roommate said, "that sounds so symbolic!" and it is. we are different people now. the things that once worked, don't anymore. and you can't go back. old habits don't feel right. the way we were has changed.
every time I see him in a dream, I think "there he is. how am I going to react?" as though I'm watching from outside of me. I'm always relieved that I'll finally see. I have punched him, kissed him, hugged him, ignored him, yelled at him, and now kicked him. I'm sure there have been other actions, too. I don't think any of them will be true. I've cried. I've screamed. I've accused. I had a dream a week or so ago that deafgirl called me with some problem. like because it was ex-otter's birthday it was ok for her to contact me. I let her finish talking, then I told her that I hated her. I said it plainly, and calmly, and with utter conviction. I told her that I hated her and I explained exactly why.
Talking to a friend today, I told him that sometimes I hold grudges. but I'm also very forgiving, if a person asks for forgiveness. if a person will own up to what they have done and ask that I forgive them, then I will. I do. small things I will overlook. things that were done accidentally, I will overlook. but I cannot forgive ex-otter and deafgirl. I cannot. they have never admitted fault. they have never asked for forgiveness. they hurt me terribly and I'll have those scars forever. whenever I think about getting back in touch with ex-otter, I think about deafgirl, and I feel blinding anger and I know that I can't do it yet. when I can think of her and feel nothing, then I will be ready.
I know that someday I will have to forgive them. I'll have to do it for myself, not for them. I can't let go of that anger yet. I don't know when I'll be able to. maybe when I have someone of my own to hold me and protect me. or maybe when I'm strong enough to feel secure without that.
these days. these stupid, worthless days. I miss shiny like an arrow in my sternum. spontaneously started sobbing today when I remembered that this was the weekend that I'd originally asked him to visit. I keep wanting to call him and ask him if he'll come. but we already had that talk. he doesn't think and I can't stop wanting.
I think if he asked to come see me, I would say yes. but I can't keep calling the shots. and I can't expect things of him unless I specifically ask. and I don't want to ask anything of him. these circles, these loops, these stupid worthless days.

when I was in the hospital, chick brought me the tiger that has been sleeping with me since my mom gave her to me on my 7th birthday. one night I dreamed that I saw my mom. I was sad, and she hugged me tightly. I woke up crying, momentarily confused because the dream seemed to have followed me awake. but it was just my tiger in my arms. and my mom was still dead.
two years since dru died.
things didn't feel solid then anyway. doesn't mean getting knocked off the boat into turbulent waters is any easier. because there's always the hope that maybe it won't happen. yes, things are horribly unsteady but there's the chance they'll calm down. clinging to that glimmer in the face of facts to the contrary makes the final fall so much worse.
maybe that's why ex-otter leaving me hurt so fucking much. shiny broad-sided me. there was no time to prepare or hope it wouldn't happen. but ex-otter gave me plenty of time.
like dru's death. didn't even know he was back on drugs. one day he was fine. the next he was dead. mom gave us a little chance, time to listen to the people around us comforting us with anecdotes of miraculous recovery. holding onto the most hopeless of hopes crushes you even harder.
rooting for the underdog only to be defeated.
and this is the difference between real life and fantasy. this is why I hate happy endings and romantic movies. it never, ever, ever ever works out that way. the two people that hate each other don't end up in love. there are no secret love notes to find or convenient coincidences. the people that are supposed to miraculously recover die. the people that are supposed to stand beside you no matter what, leave. couples break up and they don't go on to happy new relationships. sometimes they don't go anywhere. progress is lost. friends you thought would love you forever, stop. everything concrete ceases to be and it doesn't come back.
oh sure, anything can have a happy ending if you know where to stop. but life doesn't do that. we don't get to stop our stories.
when I was laying in bed, wracked with fever and coughing fits, feeling my heart flutter, I thought, "please just let me die." it seemed right. it was an out. all I had to do was not go to the hospital. all I had to do was just stay in my apartment.
but I didn't.
and now I have to deal with the consequences.

life.
how fucking typical.

coughing up the excess

he called me and sang to me when I asked him to. sang, then I said goodbye, and hung up the phone. he called me when I was in the hospital. I had to go, he said, "should I call you later?" and I told him that I wouldn't think any less of him if he didn't call again that night. but I did.
like treating pneumonia with cough drops. we walk around the symptoms, never rooting out the cause. what is it about him that keeps me latched so tightly? how can I feel so emotionally faithful to someone that feels only slightly more than nothing for me? five months we were together, almost four we've been apart. how do I get so attached to such smooth surfaces?
those that try, I push away. more than push. I ignore them, abuse them, take them for granted. I don't know how to reciprocate. I can only initiate. I feel untrustworthy and ashamed. how could anyone ever depend on me? I am so inconstant. Inconsistent. emotionally incapacitated.
I offer surface value, just enough so people stay. but the important parts of me I save for the people that leave. and then I have another reason not to trust. self-defeating. self-defacing. self-destructive.
I want to do the things that I say I will do, and I want to do them when I say I will.
I want to care about other people as much as I care about myself. I have wanted this for years. Why do I still fall so short? What do I need to do? self-sacrifice? be my own martyr? fuck martyrdom. I just want to feel human.

winded from a long journey nowhere

think about you and my heart wants to run away. think about you and I want to give up.
"tell me you don't want me," I told you. "Ok. I don't want you." "Do you mean that?" in tears. "Yes. I don't want anyone." oh, it was painful to hear but I guess it was what I needed. "you were going to come visit and what? I was going to have to pretend like I didn't want to fuck you, like I didn't want you to touch me. did you even think that far?" "no."
no, you didn't think that far. like you said to me before, you don't think ahead. it's not that you're the spontaneous sort. you're not. you just don't look beyond your feet to see what's in front of you. you only look down and see where you are immediately going.
I told you all the things I loved about you and I asked if you had loved me like that. "no." you sounded bewildered and sad. I asked if you'd ever loved anyone like that and you said "I think so." stop thinking and start knowing, please.
think about you and it pushes my head further under the water. "I thought that maybe if you came to see me, and you saw me, it would change your mind." and he made those sad noises at me. he doesn't want to have to think of anyone but himself, but he's not a naturally selfish person. that's why he has to shut off part of his brain in order to get by. that's why he can't see ahead. because he doesn't want to take anyone else into account. he doesn't want to have an effect.
I told him that's he's right back where he was before me. same routine, same way of doing things. but me, everything has changed. everything. and I collapse to say it, and I cry when I realize it. some of it's for the better and some of it isn't, but I can't really tell you what is what.
I loved someone and they loved me and I thought it could be that simple and easy. Just like I have done before. but there weren't fights and he fit me so perfectly.
How can one person be both so right and so wrong for me at the same time?
he said I helped him realize how fucked up he is. but what is he doing with that knowledge? I don't know. nothing, from what I can tell.
as for me, sometimes I want to slide back to where I was before. slide back into sex just to feel and feel wanted. so that for a little while, I am someone's world. even if it's just for an hour. to feel desired. to forget the hurt. but it's another form of self-destruction and I've been trying so hard to get rid of all of those. the whiskey and the pot and sleep deprivation and the not eating and then the cutting that I ruled out long ago. years. I don't even think of that as an option these days.
and everyone that I have ever loved has gone away.
and I have so few close friends.
and I can't blame it on anyone.
I wish it was someone's fault. I do. but it's mine. these past months show me how sheltered I have made myself and how little I trust anyone. because when I needed people, there was no one for me to grasp. and now I've been sick these past few days and no one has come to help me. anu drove me home from school. ome said she'd stop by but never did. joy is too busy. I leave passive-aggressive status updates lamenting my loneliness. that isn't the way to get people to come close to me. maybe I know that and I just don't care anymore. because at first I try to be nice, and I ask for help, and when there is no response I get angry and use guilt.
I probably focus too much on what I don't have. The truth is that there are people that love and care about. it's not that I don't have anyone, it's that I don't have everyone. what I have isn't enough for me. but what is enough? how is that defined?
I don't know. the eternal struggle. how can I learn to be happy with just what I have instead of wanting more?
oh, these headaches.

I am not convinced that any of this matters

I still resent ex-otter. His birthday is tomorrow. I can't remember what we did for it when we were together. It was only a week before his brother died. Then he shoved me away, and broke my heart at the beginning of December. I think it was the 7th.
I still resent him because I've had a hellish time with no one to take care of me. Because I was sick with PID or bi-lateral kidney infection, or whatever the fuck, and I used up my friendships trying to get well. Because when he left me, he immediately had someone else. So they hadn't had sex yet. So what? There are other ways to cheat. Other ways to be together. He should know. He dated a girl that he didn't get to penetrate.
I resent him because he left me so easily and stayed gone so willingly. Because he was cold, then tried to say it was my choice. Because he acted surprised at my devastation. Because my life is a wreck and I miss stupid things like his ankles and the arch of his foot. When he left me, I cried because I knew I wouldn't find anyone else who could make me believe his fingers were alive. He wove pictures with them when he talked, and acted out puppetry for me without disguise. I loved to watch his hands. I tried to emulate the movements, but never got it right.
It is the small things that kill me. Those small things.
So many miniscule parts add up to a whole. There is no big picture without the pixels. I should have been a scientist, studying smaller and smaller particles, making up explanations for what is made of what. String theory is appealing. So small. So significant. Right now entirely impossible to prove.
I wonder if this is how my exes felt when I moved on from them? Is this how buttercup felt when von came in? how ex-husband felt? from relationship to relationship for my entire adult life until ex-otter left me. no wonder I fell apart. Who am I when I'm alone?
I'm alone a lot these days.
I'm unmotivated but creative. Despondent but hopeful. Angry and helpless. Sad, always sad, so sad. I usually cry at some point. And I miss the smell of people that I haven't seen in over ten years. I miss the feeling I had around them. I miss California and I hate it.
I called shiny useless. But what use am I, these days?
pot calling the kettle shiny? no, no, no. kettle doesn't call shiny anymore, and he doesn't call either.

don't know

cried in the kitchen, my hand-knit blanket pulled around my shoulders. leaned back in my chair against the wall and sobbed. and I missed my mom. and I missed shiny. and I missed so many other people, but mostly my mom.
I don't want to be alone anymore and I don't want to be scared. I don't want to fear the touch of strangers in a crowd or wonder what they think of me. so many things that I do not want. so many things that I want that I do not have.
like people and hope and the desire to live. like love and affection from someone that stays. someone that's utterly honest with their own self and with me.

still bitter, so bitter, always bitter

I want to take care of myself but I think I've forgotten how. This feeling of disbelief and loss doesn't leave me. It coats me like salt left from an ocean swim. It's invisible yet tangible, and I can't get rid of it.
Reality lays heavily on my mind. Heavy. It weighs me down. I went to bed at 10:30 because I couldn't think of anything else to do. I stayed up reading until midnight. Now here I am, writing it down.
Just added the names of old friends to my blocked users list. Old friends who cut me from their lives without explanation years ago. People that it hurts to see mentioned. Now I won't have to worry about that. Do you see? I can ignore things that hurt, too.
I cannot stop being bitter. And it pains me.
I am so frightened to hope for anything. I am so sick of being alone. I put myself here, I know. I put myself here and now I'm not sure how to get out. Every time I reach for something, I get pushed back.
Dreams last night about my ex-husband and his cruelty.
Cruelty that never existed while we were together.
So much has changed in 5 years, except that I love him.
I love him and everyone that has left me.
I wonder what it's like to let these things go?

I am so angry, and confused, and lost, and ashamed.
So tired of these dreams in my empty bed. Tired of my empty heart. Tired of my empty future. Tired of this empty hope. I still think about dying. I still find comfort in its thought, even though I doubt that I would do it. Right now it's just my sister that keeps me hanging on. And even if I did die, she could handle it.
After so many people leave you, you put the pieces together and the only common factor is you. Is me. If there wasn't something wrong with me, then someone would have stayed. Someone would have fought for me. Someone would still be here.
But no one has and no one is and I miss feeling wanted by someone that I want.
Shiny might have loved me, but it was only because he thought it was what he was supposed to do. My legacy is making him realize how fucked up he is. But who's he hurting other than himself? As long as he remains single, it's only his life that he ruins. Now that he's let me go, there's no one else to hurt. So go ahead, Shiny. Ignore me and ignore this and forget about the things I've said and what you've felt. Forget about all of it. You're better off being numb. Believe me.

I fucking hate how pathetic my life has become. Or at least the way I treat it is.

just pain, what of it?

ride it. I rode it. I rode it until it bucked me off. left me naked in the dust. left me bruised and bleeding. never even noticed I had fallen. never even noticed I'd been there.
I can eat now. the poison's gone. my gut feels empty instead of queasy and the shaking feels natural. eat it. eat it up. forget about me and everything. forget about all the things I said.
the small things. how everything mattered. you never told me I was beautiful. you never said it and for months I wondered why. how many other things did you say that you didn't mean? what was the harm of one more?
I hate how much I miss your upper lip and the crinkles around your eyes when you laughed. I hate how much I loved to see your hands on me, anywhere, it didn't matter. how lightly you would stroke my arm, in just the right place, the spot where my spiderweb lives. your smile your smile your smile and the way you held me against your chest. I hate the memories and I hate how badly I ache for them.
for you. for you. for you for you for you.
maybe you've felt this way about someone before. but I remember so many things about my exes. so many things about everyone that I have loved. how could you forget? what makes you so numb? what's your goddamn excuse?
here, a list, without names:
his weird grin
his turtle neck, giggle, the little jump he did
the serious playfulness in her eyes, the grace of her wrist
the tiny kisses he would plant on my neck
tortured gazes and how he hid with lust when I took off my shirt
the way his fingers looked when he played bass
her little smile and moans and the softness of her body as we rocked against each other
the way he'd pull me into his lap and rock me when I was sad, his arms encircling me, his head leaning down against mine. so many things about him. so many years
eyes. always eyes. and smiles.
laughter
the freckles on his knuckles and his mock-surprised face
the way his upper lip looked when he shaved off the mustache of his goatee
her warm breath and sighs
the way her hair brushed the shining water as she leaned out off the pier
the mole on her cheek
tiny noises
how he'd step out of his clothing and snuggle into bed with me
long, work-worn fingers
lips
how she tasted
the feeling of warmth on my back
sweat dripping onto me
eyes, always eyes, the shape and color and intensity
lips, sucking on them, chewing, staring, touching, analyzing, wanting
how can anyone not remember these things?
gasps, the intake of air
eyes closed at orgasm
strange noises
hands on the back of my head
his nails
slapping my face
the look in his eyes as he chained me up
half-fear, half-desire
how can anyone forget? I remember all the way back to pre-school. I remember them all. ask me any name, any time, and I can tell you. I will describe it. the letter I wrote, sealed with tape over a lipstick kiss. licking behind his ear. being pressed against a foggy window in the backseat of his father's car. her hand creeping up my thigh. his weight on top of me.
loss.
and loss and loss and loss.
all these people gone from me. just like you. like you are gone. like I want you to be gone. like I am from you. like you made me.
I hate you sometimes.
that sharp, strange pain in my chest. the place I used to rub after ex-otter left me. the place I rub now so it doesn't feel so empty.
you never asked me personal questions.
wasn't there anything you wanted to know?
I could see so much about you.
why didn't you want to know?

you know I must be tired, right?

I wish you could understand the things that I feel for you. I wish you understood how much they influence me. I wish you could know how totally they fill me.
I can't make you understand. I just want you to. I want you to feel it too.
I want you to know what my love is, and what life it can bring to the dead.

perhaps

maybe I just miss what I thought we had.
maybe we didn't really have anything at all.

maybe it's silly

I fucking love him.
I don't know what to do with this but enjoy it. Enjoy it as well as I can. There is no one else that I'm interested in. Just him. Every day I hope he'll come back to me. Every day I know that he won't. It just doesn't matter. I love him and there's nothing to be done about it.
I'm sitting home alone, drinking hot toddies (that's whiskey, tea, lemon, and maple syrup if you're vegan), eating rice and beans, and thinking about him. Did you know that I think about him constantly? Everything I do I relate back to him somehow. Today I called him from the art center because I'd been sad about my mom and had started crying. Today I called him and asked him to say words for me from my dialect class so I could see if the rest of the country really does have a low-back merger (it makes the words "dawn" and "don" sound the same, as well as "caught" and "cot"). I loved it. He obliged. He said "robot" three times for me. He laughed. I love it when he laughs. I love it when he sounds like he feels something. I love it when I'm the root of that.
He said that he would visit me. I'll have to play nice. I'll have to pretend like I don't want to fuck him. I'll have to pretend like I don't want to spend the rest of my life with him. I'll have to pretend we're just friends. He knows that's not how I see him. I tell him that I miss him. If I do it right, then he's charmed. Otherwise I'm not sure how he feels.
I think he misses me too, but not the same way.
I want us to be together. I don't know how else to say it.
I guess I'll just stay single, in case he ever comes back.

a summary

These days don't feel like much. Fuzzy-brained and slightly bored. Existing. Missing. Longing. Sighing.
The sunny days are better than the rainy days, but not by much. I still sit inside alone. I still keep myself separate from everyone. I still cease to reach for anyone. I just can't see the point.
Yeah, this is depression. So what?
I don't think I've ever been happy. I've been happier than now, but never some all-encompassing thing. My time with Shiny came close, especially right before my mom died. Right before he realize he couldn't see a future for us.
These paths we travel down: can we really see to their end? When we travel down the different forks, isn't it possible they can twist back and reconnect? I don't know. I just know that I ache for him. And I ache.
He didn't call last night. I didn't call him. It was Friday. Maybe he thought I'd be out. I wasn't. There are always excuses.
I'm so tired.
I like escaping into the worlds that are not mine.
I like leaving the mediocrity behind.

I really miss loving my life.
I hope that some day I don't look back and realize that this was the best of the worst of this time of my life.

I don't want to lose everything.

Lately I've been waking up disoriented, thinking I'm at the house where I grew up. I blurrily look around, thinking there will be stairs to climb down. The sound of the kitchen surprises me. It's supposed to be downstairs. But no, it's there, just outside of my room. There are no stairs, just a ladder leading down from my loft bed. Just beyond my door is the kitchen, and the rattling dishes. It takes me a moment to realize that I'm 29, not 13, my mom is dead, my sister married and with children, and my dad and brother are almost entirely absent.
I get confused.
I have been crying at night and wishing for something better.
No matter what people want to believe or the things they try to say, I have never been particularly strong. Not in the way that I have needed. I've never been certain of anything for very long. I've rarely fully trusted anyone. I don't think I've ever trusted myself.

just wondering

drawn to the phoenix. the word phoenix. the concept. the idea. the city.
"don't go to phoenix. there's nothing there." but I had a dream once that the person I loved was there. I had a dream that I was supposed to follow. I still haven't gone. I don't know if I will.
the phoenix and its burning wings. the phoenix, reborn out of ashes. the mythology. the symbolism. the analogy.
the idea that a being can rise out of its own destruction. the details differ from culture to culture, but certain elements remain. beauty. fire. death. rebirth.
and a very long life.
what does the phoenix do with its years? what would any creature do? is it wise? is there only one? is it lonely? where does it go? what does it do? who does it love?
these mythologies of long-lived creatures baffle me. I do not understand the strong desire for power and longevity. I don't know what I would do with all the years.
the long-lived in the tale of Gulliver's Travels grow to hate themselves and the world. they grow backwards into senility from the age of 40 onwards. but other mythos, like that of the vampire, talk of ever-lasting youth and beauty. but there's always a price, right?
burn yourself at the end of your 500 or 1000 years. be reborn. or drink the blood of other creatures just to live. hate your existence. I don't know.
why am I so drawn to the phoenix? what loss have I faced? death, and heart break, and liars, and pain. does the phoenix remember its past lives? does it feel the flames? does it scream?
could it ever choose to die and stay dead?

yeah, it's what we all knew already

last night I had a dream about vampires, but they were vampires like the ones in the book "The Passage." They had twisted, transparent faces that showed the writhing vines of veins beneath the skin. They had leathery bodies and misshapen wings. They devoured, not drained. I had a dream that I went to the woods with a friend and she insisted on staying after dark even though there were vampires in the trees. We only barely escaped the first time. They stayed away from the light, from all light, even artificial. If there was enough shade, though, they would creep in and silently steal you.
I went back to those woods with the same friend two more times. I don't know why. The first time was the most dangerous. The second time we had a car. The third time I brought my own car but didn't know the way home. I didn't want to be stuck again when she decided to stay. But I was anyway.
It was doing something that I knew I would regret, but going along anyway.
It was accompanying someone, thinking things would be different this time, but not having the strength to leave alone.
It was being terrified of dying but putting myself in the position to do so anyway.
It was not succumbing to horrid fear.
It was going forward through my fright and escaping against all odds.
I don't know exactly how this relates to my waking world. I know that I missed classes yesterday and today I called out of work and missed my first class. I know I'm at a turning point, but I'm not sure where I'm going. Yesterday was a day of breakthroughs. My therapist told me, "you are not responsible for your mother's death" and for the first time, I believed it. I told shiny that I loved him and after a long pause, he said, "I love you too" and for the first time it sounded like he meant it. It sounded like he was crying. He cracked for a moment. He closed back up again, but to know that it is possible for him to open is enough for me right now.
I worry that I am putting energy into something that will never pay off.
I worry that this will only lead to pain.
I told him about ex-otter and deafgirl and Oregon last night. More detail than I had before, at least. I told him how death changes things, how it had closed ex-otter off from me but opened him to deafgirl. How that hadn't happened to me. How much I'd been destroyed by ex-otter, how he'd never know how much he'd hurt me, how shiny would never know how much he had hurt me. There is no way to know, just like I never knew how much I had hurt buttercup.
I tried to tell them. No one told me.
We cannot know these things just by wanting to know. We must be taught and told.

I just keep thinking of those vampires, sweeping out of the trees, trying to get to me. Me, hiding in the light. Terrified of shadows.
I think about the catch in shiny's voice, so worried that I misheard what I took to be tears.
I think about the feeling of Oregon, of the hot springs, of looking at a Giger book as ex-otter got his sugar skull tattoo of Dru's birth and death dates. I think about the tiny room we stayed in at his cousin's house, and how I wanted ex-otter and I to have sex but worried it would be inappropriate. I think about the tiny snuffling noises he used to make when he would get naked and crawl under the blanket with me to watch a movie under my loft. I think about how he'd get self-conscious sometimes. How much I loved his body. How much I loved him.

It's raining today. I'd love to have someone here to hold me. Someone warm and sweet to nuzzle my neck and wrap their arms around me. I'd love to feel them smile into my back, for me to push my body back against them, to feel their skin press against mine.
I miss them. I miss all of them. I miss feeling wanted and loved and safe.
I miss von's softness and her gentle smile. I miss her eyes. I miss her small fingers and strong, delicate hands. I miss buttercup's anxiety and how he'd sometimes cry against my chest. I miss the way ex-husband would hold me in his lap and rock me and rub my ear to calm me down. I miss small things. So many small things, so that mostly I don't even know if there were big ones.
What is big?
I thought I killed my mom, but it turns out I didn't. Life did.
Isn't that a fuckin' kicker.

it's just an image in me

grip you in my tight fist. squeeze through my fingers like mud. I will collect you again, and re-shape you, and make you mine to grasp.
you don't escape. I don't let you.
and you, you, you: you are all over me. what can I do?
I let myself sink. there is no exit. there is only you, closing over me. there is no up or down. no matter where I go, there you are. you are in everything. you are a part of me.
I dream of the day that I become part of you again.
I dream that it will come.
and I worry that, like so many other dreams, it will never be true.
I am learning patience. right?
I want to learn to wait.
I want to wait for you.

just a reminder

last night I had a dream that I happened upon someone who read this journal. I knew him from seeing him around providence. he had a "deer tick" tattoo on his neck and was very sweet as he told me how he liked my writing. he flattered me with his adoration and we rode our bikes around and went through buildings. I was late for work. he was a smoker and even though I liked him, I knew things wouldn't happen.
I don't date smokers anymore.
I don't dare date addicts.

muffled

dreams about those I have lost: those that have died or gone away. in my dreams, it is not amazing that my mother is not dead. in my dreams, she never died. last night I dreamt that shiny called me. the night before I dreamt that we rode our bikes together every day on our way to work and school. I came from my childhood house and he lived down the street. if I timed it just right, I would go by his driveway as he left and our paths would merge seamlessly. he agreed with me that it was very nice. he smiled, and I smiled, and when I woke up the first thing that I did was call him. 9am on a sunday. I woke him up to say that I dream about him.
I don't know what this feeling is. I get so confused. I don't know what there is to get confused about. I have talked to him almost every day lately. he feels so sad. I miss holding him. I miss being with him. he's not happy with his life. he's where he was before. I asked him what he wants from life and he could only answer in immediate, short-term goals. eat enough, sleep enough, life weights, read books, just do what he wants to do. but he said he can't even get that right.
I told him that the short-term doesn't matter without the long-term. people need people. I don't get up every morning for me. I get up for my sister. for him. for my roommate and my cat and all the people that would miss me. I go to school because I know that in a year I'll be back in the social work program. I'll be back where I want to be. I asked him "why do you get up in the morning?"
he lives in long pauses. sometimes he waits so long to answer that I'm not sure if he heard me. I didn't wait to hear the answer this time. talking to him is an exercise in patience for me, but not in the accustomed way. I wonder what goes on inside his head when he contemplates my questions. I wonder why he doesn't try to figure himself out.
I told him he feels empty and it scares me. I told him it feels like he's hiding. I said that I could be wrong. again, I didn't wait for a response.
I told him he was allowed to contact me. I wish he'd write. I wish he'd think. I wish he'd say something real without my prompting.
in the end, aren't I just wishing for someone else?
I don't know.
he felt so good.
it was so good to be with him.

whenever everything seems to be going right, I know things are about to go wrong.

pointless

I don't know who I see anymore when I masturbate. I used to picture shiny so clearly. but it's been over two months since the last time I saw him. over two months since we last had sex. it feels like it's been a lot longer.
five months. it was only five months. but I'm still all wrecked over it.
three months today since my mom died. shiny held me. we walked to the park. I called my dad. shiny makes helpless sad noises when I cry at him. when I called last week and broke down, he made those same noises.
I wish I wasn't so hard on him.
I wish he'd let me in.

these are questions

I have been using my typewriter lately. I have tapped out some pages where I get to use real names because no one else gets to see them. Not now, anyway. not for a while, if ever.
last night I called shiny and we talked for a while and somehow things ended up getting very serious. I hadn't meant to do that. I told him that I felt sad for him because his life seemed so empty. it seems like he only does what he thinks is expected of him and not a step more than that. he agreed. he seems untouched by everything. I don't understand it. and I don't understand why I continue to want him so badly.
I said, "I think I liked being with you because it was like being alone." I didn't mean that I was lonely (though I was during the week, in between times, I meant that he didn't take up energy. I loved being with him. I loved spending time with him. having him with me was comforting because he was there just for me. joy tried telling me that he was boring and dull and nothing and I just kept disagreeing. he's very interesting. he's fascinating. how can somebody live like he does? that in itself fascinates me. but that he can seem so sweet and caring also confuses me. he isn't one to think of surprises or do anything more than what he is asked to do.
and even though he seems untouched by everything, he still will not read this journal. I asked him if he thinks about the past. "No."
"Well, maybe you should. it might help."
there is so much I still don't understand.
and I don't know why it's so important that I do so.

and I don't know why I still want him to come back to me.

try to unwind this, try to undo the knots

called shiny at 11pm last night because I couldn't sleep and I knew he was the only one that could calm my brain. reminds me of how I used to be the only one that could calm down buttercup's anxiety. but then I became his anxiety. is that shiny's lot in my life? he calms me or he hurts me but there is no neutral setting?
called shiny last night and I became the person that I liked. and we laughed and I loved his voice and how he'd laugh at my laughter and the stupid shit I say just to make him laugh. I say ridiculous things in ridiculous ways because it makes him make ridiculous sounds. I am still with him, even if he isn't with me, and I don't know what to do with that.
all I know is that I ache horribly without him in my life. I typed him a letter but I haven't sent it. he hasn't said whether or not he wants me to. I guess that means he doesn't. I'll probably send it anyway.
I just do what I want to do anyway.
just like everyone else. always looking out for ourselves, no matter who it hurts.

but that's not what I wanted to say here. I don't want to be so full of self-pity. but I don't want to be some kind of martyr without a cause, either. I want things to make sense like they used to, but we can never go back to how we were. there are only steps forward. we don't get to step backwards. always forwards.
and I wish I could have talked to shiny about why I couldn't sleep. I wish he would have asked. I would have told him. I wonder if I'll call him tonight. I don't know. I wonder if he'd answer. probably.
I didn't mean to depend on him like this.
but I don't know what to do.

two months later and I still can't let anyone else hold me when I cry. I still haven't found anyone to listen like he used to.
nobody else will just listen. I don't need solutions. I don't need sympathy. I need quiet empathy. I need love without judgment.
I need shiny.
I guess it's time to see what happens next.

why is this getting harder instead of easier? [backdated]

sometimes the places in my dreams feel more real than the waking world. they are closer to my heart and offer feelings that regular places do not. there is a world laid out in my memory that no one else can access. it is mine, and mine alone.
in that world, my parents are still together. my mom is still alive. there is no distant step-dad or bird-like step-mom. the house that I grew up in has not changed so drastically. there are secret rooms, secret balconies, secret passages that I have to shimmy up.there are the places from my life that I have loved the most, that have influenced me, and others that I made up entirely.
there, none of my friends have left me.
there, love doesn't abandon me.
there, everything makes sense.
everything is accepted as it appears to be. all the monsters never reach me and there's always a safe place to go.
and there's always someone to hold me.
and I am not afraid.
and no one goes away.
and I don't ever wake up.

backdate me

push
with the ball of my foot
for every action
there's an equal and opposite reaction.
up down, up down,
on and on until I reach
my destination
which I leave, with a push
of the ball of my foot
going in loops without you
drained all my passion and
replaced it with what?
sorrow?
no one revs me anymore.
what is action without reaction?
stored energy?
on and on and no one looks as good
as you did.
but the photographs don't make me cry.
stored energy.
grey skies.
memories.
all forward momentum
with as little effort as possible.

not safe for anything

You used to straddle my chest and lean your head against the wall so you could watch my face as you fucked it. I'm not sure when that stopped. I know it had ceased after my mom died, but I'm not sure if it started before then.
Yeah, I miss you. you know that because I tell you. everyone knows that because I tell them. but what is it that I miss?
the normal things. the physical things, like hands and eyes and your smile. freckles. thighs. your voice, and how you'd agree when I said you were cute.
you never told me I was beautiful. I wonder why.
I wasn't someone you could picture yourself with long-term. why?
was I ever?
you used to agree that we were well-suited for each other. when did that change? why?
have you ever questioned any of these things?
I don't know how to get over you without a fight. but you don't fight and you don't get angry. you just agree, or stay silent, or say you don't know. how can you not know? what do you know?

I want to be angry, but I'm not. I just miss you, and I'm sad. I don't know what any of this means to you. I don't know what I mean to you.

hold onto the sadness, because without it, you are gone. I just wanted you to stay.

truth

let's be honest here ... I would take any excuse to talk to shiny.
I just can't think of one.

stasis

I don't know what to say that I haven't already said. I'm so tired today and I'm not sure why. I miss the way it felt to have a full heart. I miss not having this ache in my sternum.
I miss boston and bike rides and laughter and smiles. I miss his fingers. I miss his eyes.
and it doesn't matter.
none of it matters.

I want to write so I have something to remind me of how I used to feel. I feel neither hopeless nor hopeful. I accept the pointlessness that my life has become. I am working towards nothing. I don't feel for anyone. I don't want anyone. No one new, at least. nothing that is real.
old habits die hard. so when I look at people, I have a brief glimmer of that old predatory me. but I don't act on it anymore. I don't flirt and I don't stare and I don't even smile that much now. I think I used to laugh more. I think my face used to feel less strained.

shiny never promised to stay with me. shiny never said "forever." he didn't offer future plans. he neither agreed nor denied.
I don't want to make plans for an uncertain future. I offer no promises. I feel nothing. I want nothing.
nothing new, anyway.

bleh bleh bleh blaaah

ap·pre·hen·sion
–noun
1.anticipation of adversity or misfortune; suspicion or fear of future trouble or evil.
2.the faculty or act of apprehending, esp. intuitive understanding; perception on a direct and immediate level.
3.acceptance of or receptivity to information without passing judgment on its validity, often without complete comprehension.

intuitive understanding. is that everything that I am? I intuitively know that shit with shiny will never work out. I intuitively know that I am going to be single for a while. I intuitively know that things are going to get bad again. I intuitively know that this will be a lonely winter.

I've been wrong before. It'd be nice to have someone to hold as the snow blows. I'd like to build a fort. I'd like to be in love. but I intuitively know that I'm not ready.
Shiny is damned in my mind for giving me hope and then going away. He is damned for leaving me and then leaving me completely. He is damned for not dealing with his shit and the shit he's piled on me.
And I am damned by damning him.

Lately I have been having flashes of comprehension. I get so angry and hurt, and then I realize that the thing I'm missing is those that came before. Ex-otter. I miss him a lot. And I hate him too.
I have never been able to leave and not look back.
people have tried to say that I love conditionally, but it isn't true. When I love someone, they seep into me. They infiltrate every part of my day. I can't do anything without thinking about them. they are what I live for, even when I get angry. everything I do, I want them to do, too.
I want to be empty of all others.
I'm tired of living with these ghosts and half-dreams.

I want to be alone.

he's not there

throw myself into nothing.
listen to songs on repeat. anything to feel something more than this. anything to distract me from the confusion. plunge me into pain because that's something familiar.
I miss shiny.
cried tonight, finally. went through my photos from the past few months. until he left me, most of them were of him. I loved photographing beautiful features. so many pictures of his freckles, lips, eyes. the same tight-lipped mona lisa smile in every shot. never got beyond his facade. never got the chance to see who he really was.
how could I be so loyal to someone that kept me so distant?
how can I still be so loyal to him? the only person I've ever been with where I didn't want anyone but him. he was enough. he listened, and tried, and I miss him.
the thought of him being with someone else makes my heart feel like it's being squeezed. I get a little light-headed and I start to have trouble breathing. I don't want to really be with anyone until I can stop feeling that way about him.
this is so stupid, and I know it is, and there's so little that I can do.
I can write, but it doesn't matter.
I could call if I still had his number.
But what would I hope to accomplish, other than re-opening the wound?
I want him back or I want it over but regardless, I want resolution. That's all up to me.
I hate loving someone so much that months after they leave me, I still hope for them to return.

it isn't their fault. they're just following evolutionary imperatives

so confused. not twisted, more like swirled. can't get these feelings to settle. reminded of too many things.
ex-otter, and how he used to be. the way that he left me. shiny, and how his feelings dulled. how he doesn't remember. ex-husband and his dogged silence. buttercup. I still don't understand that.
I like to watch the people that watch me. voyeurism of a voyeur. I like to see who cares enough to keep up. but that's just my definition. different ways for different people. shiny avoids. I oversimplify. or sometimes complicate.
fit
me
into
boxes.
let me be someone that pours into your mold. let me be the things that someone, anyone needs. someone to be desired. someone to want. maybe I'm already there. I've never been good at subtleties, or acknowledging what I don't want to see.

so many discarded plans.
so many forgotten projects.

I miss the ones that don't miss me. that don't show that they miss me. that don't show me that they miss me.
I know. we are not psychic. what I need is not what they can give, and what they need is not known to me. no matter how vocal I am, if a person doesn't have it then they can't give it. I miss shiny's stillness, his comfort, his solidity, his steadfastness, his calm. but I don't know how much of it was real and how much was just something I superimposed my desires onto. I don't know how much is true and how much is just what I wanted to see.
at the bottom of it all, when everything's been washed away, it doesn't matter anymore.

I remember seeing him for the first time and how nervous I was.
I remember the soft deepness of his voice. the lilting way he said things. tenderly. but guarded.
always so closed off.
just when I thought we were getting somewhere, he left me.

this is the way the world works. people come, let you love them, and then leave before they can be left. the trick is to leave first. that used to be me. thought I'd turn over a new leaf. guess that means now I'm the one that stays.
the only consolation I can find in these times is the realization that what they do to me will be done to them.
every pain thrust on me, they will eventually feel.
and if I can one day purge my heart of bitterness, I will be all the better for it.

I just don't know how to start.

good isn't enough

I know it's ridiculous, but I still look at my visitor information to see if shiny has read this yet. he hasn't. he hasn't read anything since he broke up with me, and I don't think that's fair. I think he should have to know what has been going on. I think he should see the hurt.
but again, the pain I wish on others is pain that will return to me. so why even bother?
I cried today about my mother. it had been a while. found myself wearing almost the exact outfit I wore when she came to visit me. found myself mentioning her in conversation, making people feel awkward. I don't mean to do it. it's just what happens.
I miss her and I wish there was some end in sight. but there isn't. this isn't a break up where maybe one day you can be friends again. this is death and it doesn't change. and it hurts. and people don't know how to handle it. I don't even know how to handle it.
all I know is that I miss her, and I wish shiny hadn't left, or I wish I'd never met him so I could be happily with chick, but I'd feel like a hypocrite to do that because I would be devastated if shiny were dating someone now.
I don't think he is, and it isn't something I can do anything about, but it would hurt.
I want him to stop mattering this way.
I want my mom to be ok.
but really, I guess she's doing better than anyone else I know.

the truth

hands are shaking. wish you coulda saved me. I have my days of dealing but every once in a while I just want you so badly. I want you to call me and love me and hold me and smile at me again. I want you to be who I thought you were: the person you were being for me. I wish that person had been real. I wish you were just what you seemed to be.
I don't cry about you anymore. not sure when it stopped completely. I only realized it yesterday when I tried to remember the last time I cried. it feels like it's been a long time. it probably hasn't been.
these days are so long. chick would gladly talk to me every night if I made the effort to call. I don't. I don't want to talk about anything. I don't want someone to take your place.
besides, he reminds me too much of ex-otter. you reminded me of buttercup. but it turns out that wasn't you either. and he went away too, a year ago. haven't heard from him since.

I try I try I try to make sense of this. I almost understand where you're coming from. I wonder how you're doing. I wonder if you miss me. I wonder if you miss us. I miss sleeping beside you. I miss waking up and touching you for comfort. I miss feeling your broad back turned towards me. I miss the way you'd nestle into my arms. I miss your shoulders. I miss your legs, bigger than my head.
I still miss the life I'd had planned out for us. like they say, if it seems too good to be true then it probably is.

you were too good to be true.
which makes sense, because you weren't.