let's twist and whisper

I like his big thighs and the way he stares at me. I like his sweat dripping on my skin. I like watching him in the mirror, or in a reflection of a reflection. I like seeing him on top of me. I like feeling the rapid flutter of his heart when I press my hand against his chest. I like it when he presses against me and involuntarily thrusts. I like his eyes. I want his mouth.

And I remember how this is what my old journal used to say.
And I remember a time when sex was love.
And I remember thinking romance was fucking.
And I remember defining things through a jaded filter.
And I wonder where the time has gone. Where the people have gone. Where my words have gone. Where life has gone.

I wonder how much I've given up and how much I've given away.

who is leading whom

"you feel like home."
"I can't believe I've only known you for a month."
When he's gone it's like life becomes muffled. I have to try harder to interact with my surroundings. I have to make an effort to resume my normal actions. Because this isn't normal anymore. This isn't real.
But it is. I said before that I am living two lives and it's fine as long as I can maintain them both. I slipped last week. I slid this weekend. I regained my footing and I'm trying to keep it. I am trying to merge my lives so that the absence of one thing doesn't shine so brightly on the other.
This was what I wanted. This is what I asked for. "Me getting so melancholy is proof that I really really like you." I didn't want to tell stories but I did because they made me who I am now. Sometimes trust feels like ignorance. Sometimes it feels like I'm blind-folded and being led toward a cliff. I feel the sudden rush of air at my feet but the hand keeps guiding me on and on. Is this Orpheus, leaving Hades? If I don't look behind me then I'll get everything I desire?
If I can have faith in what I've been told then we can leave the darkness?
If I can trust, if I can trust, if I can trust ...
What if Orpheus had never looked back? What if Eurydice had returned with him to the surface? What more could he have been but the greatest musician in the world? Happy, I think. At least for a little while.

We don't live for the stories. We live for the life. Life makes the stories. There are no other stories about Eurydice. She is nothing. Only the pain of Orpheus matters.

I don't want to slide into the dark.

I want to believe in this.

an observation

Oh Shiny.
It's ridiculous how lost I feel when you leave.

where you rest your weary self

I want to write something here about this weekend. I feel like I need to express how wonderful it was to lay in bed with someone so safe. I was worried that I'd be really freaked out being there, since I've only known him for a month and I'd never been to his apartment, AND he lives with three other people.
But it was ok.
I want to write something about his fingers. When we were waiting for the train, he took off his glove and wiggled his fingers and it made everything feel alright. Somehow it calmed me down. I don't think he noticed he did it. He flexed his hand and my heart was just gone.
It's small things. It's the stillness I feel in him. His completeness. His unwavering patience. It's him holding my hand as we walked in the rain. It's the fact that he held my hand. He initiated. He initiates. It's trying to sleep and opening my eyes and seeing him watching me. It's his hand on my neck. It's his warmth. It's every single time he touches me.
It's his tongue on my wrist. His mouth at my throat. It's his excitement at my excitement. "You're silly." He encourages it. "It's your fault."
I don't know how to say what I feel without sounding trite. Without sounding like every other person suddenly surprised by the appearance of someone that seems just right for them. Does that happen? It must. It feels like it's happening to me. But it's easy to feel that way after only a month. I can't believe it's been such a short time. Every time I see him again it's like we were never apart. It's like the days in between didn't happen. Is that bad? Am I living two different lives? Studious in one, helplessly enamored in the other?
I think it doesn't matter as long as I do the best that I can in both of these lives. Week and weekend. I was upset today and tried not to take it out on anyone. I don't know if it worked. As much as I absorb others' emotions, I also project my own. I don't know how not to do it. I want to learn to contain myself. I don't want to seep out onto others.
I don't want to bleed onto others.
He recovers quickly. He is resilient.
I worry out of habit. I look for things to go wrong. I make myself miserable because I'm scared of things that I can't control. Loving life sounds like such a beautiful mind set. I catch glimpses of it but can never fully embrace it. This change isn't something that will happen to me. It's something that I have to make happen.
I have to let go of all the shit that has happened before. I have to let go of the scars and the pain and the people that hurt me and the people whom I have hurt. I'm working on it. I always am. Always will be.
Let go of the past. It's so hard. There are so many strings that still tie me. I am snip snip snipping them but it seems like there's always one more.
Can't go anywhere in this town without thinkin' 'bout someone. I think that's ok. I think these memories can be something other than what I've made them out to be.
I remember asking, a long time ago, or several months ago, or just now: what if I fall in love? What if I become happy?
Oh, what if, what if?
The quiet life suits me so well these days.

what we all have been waiting for

I don't want to focus on the negative things that pass through my mind. I don't want to be fixated on the past. I cannot change it but I don't think I should ignore it. I still think about Pants but it lessens. It lessens and goes away faster than before. And I am thankful. And I am grateful. And I look forward to the day there is no thought of him at all; or it is a flicker that quickly dies.
My therapist saw this coming; my memories. She knows my pattern. I meet someone, like them, and then all my demons come back to haunt me. All those past relationships raise their hands and call my attention. And suddenly my heart is not my own anymore.
It's not as bad this time. I don't even feel the need to talk about it (much) or write about it (much). Just a mention. Oh, I remember them. I do. But they are gone. They are gone and I would like for them to stay that way.
I avoid the things that would bring to me the memories I long to repress. Sometimes I indulge and honestly? It's getting easier to not hurt. Or to recover from the ache. It helps to have Shiny, even if I don't yet talk to him about this. I make mention but it's nothing like the story times that have gone into every other relationship I've had. It's nothing like the phone calls and tears and sense of betrayal of the person I'm dating because I can't push these others out of my chest cavity.
It's been healing with help. I feel more whole than I ever have. This is a good time to be in my life. I am relatively stable emotionally, I love school, I like my job (even if the circumstances aren't ideal), I love my internship, I love my roommate and apartment and cat. And now there's this person that gradually got worked into my life.
Shiny fans my embers. He makes my fire grow. My heart is cautious, cautious, cautious even as it screams "GO GO GO." I am grateful for the parts of me that still hold back. I feel safer that way. I feel like I can trust him, but it still must be earned. This is new. Why do things feel so certain? Part of me still expects it all to abruptly end. Like he'll suddenly realize that I don't fit. I know he meets all my relationship requirements, but things are trickier when a person doesn't have any.
I crave solidity, stability, and assurance. I crave the things that I am not. I seek someone to balance me. The only person who has ever done that was my ex-husband. Honestly, in some ways Shiny reminds me of him. The upgrade.
But I don't want to compare Shiny to the people I've been with before. That isn't fair to anyone. I can't help it sometimes. There have been little holes inside of me that people left behind. Little memories of the things that I miss. Head on my shoulder. Mocking my pout. Rubbing the cartilage of my ear. No one else has been able to do it the way he did. No one else could hold me in their lap the way he did. No one else rocked me that way or cried while I did.
There are things that cannot be recreated. Those are what stick inside of me and ask why I did the things that I did. I don't know. I thought it was right.
Shiny fills the holes like water. Or clay, ready to harden with the heat. Will he evaporate, crack, or remain?
Can he lessen my need?
Is this redemption?
What is redemption?
The realization that I deserve the good that I receive?
The realization that I can let someone inside and not have it hurt?
The ability to finally accept someone as who they are and not who they could be, or should be, or want to be?
I want this.
I want it to just be.

forsooth

I've gotta-
write this down before I forget. I've gotta-
have something to look forward to when I remember to
do things like eat
and sleep
and practice some form of art.
I-need-to-remember-that
I-need-to-remember-what
I did to bring me to this glorious
beautiful
fulfilling
8am morning.
Let's recap the previous day's adventures (in no particular order).

I had all my homework done early/on time. No stressing. I ate breakfast, lunch, dinner, and had some snacks. I stayed hydrated. I read a chapter out of two that are due for tomorrow. I read carefully over an assignment and realized that it wasn't as difficult as it initially seemed. I made a pact with Shiny to eat better. We decided on positive rather than negative reinforcement (ice cream!). I practiced my trombone. I made delicious food. I took a soothing shower. I played with my Luca kitty under the door. I prepped some oatmeal for breakfast tomorrow. I called Shiny. We praised each other on our cuteness. I went to bed at 9:30.
Today I woke up at 6. I chopped up half an apple and put it in my oatmeal. I drank decaf tea. I researched the meaning behind a dream I had last night. I rode my bike to work 2 minutes faster than usual. I have my first hour at work at the back desk! The best!

The weather is nice. No wind. The sun is out. I zoomed past the cars. I'm in a good mood. Previous experience dictates that this will not last, as every day requires balance, but right now I am enjoying the sensation of SPRING.
and romance.
titter, titter.

oh yes

I don't feel too sad about any of the things I'm "missing." I guess you could say that I don't miss them. Experiences that I'm wasting? No, just choosing other avenues these days.
I used to feel tied down by partners. I don't right now. There isn't anyone else I'd want to be with. I said to my roommate "I don't date. I just find people and then we're together. It's an instant connection." "You're lucky." "Am I? I'm kind of self-conscious about it. It's not the way things are normally done." I jump in, head first, eyes closed, arms flailing, hoping I don't hit something my body can't handle.
But it works. Has worked. Is working. Will continue to work.
Have you ever felt so certain of an outcome that it feels like it's already happened? Is that a form of self-fulfilling prophecy? I don't know. If it is, then at least in this case it will be positive.

frightened of my shadow

Try to recapture the days that meant more than this. Try to feel the way I did when I was getting over things. Try to recreate the moments that led to feeling more content. Where was I standing? What did I say? Where was I writing? What did it mean?
In the end, all the introspection leads me into a spiral. It's raining outside. Is that the reason for the melancholy? I haven't been sleeping well (still). Is that the reason for the melancholy? I've been on this new medication for long enough that it isn't new anymore. Am I building up a tolerance? Is that the reason for the melancholy? Shiny is back in Allston. Is that the reason for the melancholy?
Working on finding the equilibrium between then and now. My life is not static and for that I am grateful. Watch reality through a mirror. Every movement seems natural despite being backwards. Everything looks different; twice as far away.
I want to dance again.
I dreamed about dancing.
The wind blows rain against the side of my apartment. It booms and scatters and I am not looking forward to braving the outside. I feel lonely these days in between. I feel lonely but not alone.
I had a dream that the Beard hung out with me and we smiled and were natural and he hugged me a lot and I kept trying to figure out when to tell him that I was seeing someone now. I think he'd be relieved. I think he's thought that I've wanted things from him that I don't. I really just miss his companionship and I don't understand why he's gone away.
I mean, I do but I don't want to.
There are observations that rattle in between my thoughts. I don't quite believe my good fortune and I feel myself grow cold in the times between our contact. But when I hear from him the fires are stoked again. I mope until he reaches me and this is not who I want to be. This is not who I am.
"I feel young. It sounds so cheesy, but it's true." "The beginning of a relationship is like that. It's exciting." I get so wrapped up in people. Most of the serious relationships I've had have been that way from day one. It's been every day together. Buttercup would have been the same too except he lived hours away. I bet Shiny would be the same way.
I have no point of reference here. I am someone else, aren't I?
My life divides into breaks in time. The last part left off when ex-otter did. So I am someone else now. I am someone else now. That means relax. Just relax.
I want to have faith.
Faith in myself. Faith in the people around me. Faith that even if things hurt, it's ok, because it will get better.
Faith in balance. Bad begets good begets bad begets good and so on and so forth forever and ever.
Amen.