World Upside Down?

My life is a mess… an absolute fucking mess. I’m not sure what I trust or what is safe.  The people I would have given my life to protect have walked away.  I’m crying and so confused about my next step. 

But to build onto my life I need to believe my life is worth something.  Right now my life feels like a series of voids, excuses, exceptions, losses, and pains.  Before hell broke loose I was strong.

In January of this year, I felt so sure of myself, so sure of my future.  How I planned to build, where I wanted it to go.  So much of that is gone.  I feel like I just got to the beach and I’m starting a new sand castle a bit too close to the water and every dome I begin to shape washes away into a slurry of water and sand. 

Thank god for the last 15 years of therapy! Developing coping skills I didn’t even know existed.  If it weren’t for all those professionals listening to my story, guiding me to find myself, guiding me to find my own strength… I don’t think I could be here.

I want to believe in something.  I want to know that my future starts ‘here’.  I want to know that the footing is safe and I can work on moving forward from here.  My few points of security at this time are:

My mother – she has always been strong for me when I needed her most.  She helps re-align my heart and head to get me moving in a positive direction.

My little person – although she wasn’t born from me, she is the light of my life.  I make so many choices based upon the needs of this little person.  Her smile, her laugh, her little hands, her caring soul guide me back to a purpose I can be comfortable with.

My self – it has taken me a long time to see myself as my own strength, but over the last year I have worked so hard to trust this person.  To rely on her to carry me through the good and the bad.  She is so caring and kind.  She’d protect me from anything… if only learned to trust her and allow her to be my safety. 

Very little outside of these three factors are sure and secure or close enough to provide the stability I need.  Why do I seek the arms of a loved one?  Why do I seek some nameless, faceless person to tell me I’m okay?  Why do I need him to tell me I am enough … that I’m good enough … that I’m worthy enough.

I don’t believe that nameless faceless person exists.  I don’t want to keep looking because all things about love feel like a lie.  My other half doesn’t exist.  So why allow my world to turn upside down while looking for something that does not exist?

Give It Up?

Once again, the life I knew has turned 180 degrees.  Everything I thought I knew means nothing.  Every drop of effort milked from my pores… Every tear I cried… Every prayer to the unknown… Every second chance given blindly… Every ounce of unconditional love given…

Was all for naught. It’s all boiled down to this day in this life of loneliness.

The emptiness has ground meaningless activities to pure torture.  Everywhere I go, everything I see is a shitty reminder of wasted… everything.

So I seek a way, a path around the pain… an alternative to feeling every impurity in the road. It comes in the form of attention. 

I’m navigating my way around this, in every effort not to succumb to the addict I was. It would seem I am swirling in water I do not recognize with a strong under-current.  Every attempt I make to be more than the sum of my mistakes, takes me closer to a jagged rock peeking out of the water.

Everyone wants a piece.  Just a taste.  Just a token.  Like a prize at the fair.  Everyone wants to win.  Just once.  No matter how trivial and useless the prize is.  No matter the fact that it will be trash in a week… they fight to call it theirs … they fight to say they won … they fight to embrace and smother it.

I feel like I’m that prize – or at least that one little part of me is.  Desperately seeking to avoid the rocks, each moment of strength is followed by a moment of powerful defeat.  This is followed by my weakness. 

Do I just give up and be what they want me to be?  What I’ve always been?  The one thing I can do that makes them happy – for just one moment?  At this point, I want to give it up. Maybe if I do it can all end.  All the pretending. All the stories.  All the lies. …they can all end and I can be me again. I wish it worked like that. I wish I could give enough that they would be done with me.  Done taking.  Done smothering. Done lying. Done pretending …I matter.

But they won’t ever be done, will they?  This is just one in a line of contestants waiting to play the game, isn’t it? How does one even know anymore?  How could I claim to know anything at this point?  Everything I knew is gone.

Stay or Go...

It’s been a long six years with this man I love. There have been ins and outs and ups and downs. I fell deeply, madly in love with him so fast, so easy, even after every broken heart. But then he goes void.

We act out a relationship – primarily in that we sleep in the same bed or eat the same things for dinner, but rarely much more than that when he is void.

We go places he walks ahead. I need his help and he can’t find the moment to help. We sit to watch a tv program and he plays on his PC, or puts head phones on and watches a different show. I walk out of the room he sees no difference. I make him dinner including all his dietary preferences but he shows no appreciation. I try to tell him of my pain and he relates it back to something I’ve done similar, thus nulling my right to feel the pain. I make mistakes and I apologize. I get angry and yell but come back to say I’m sorry.

Over and over and over and over…

Each time I start to walk away and meet someone new his emotions stir and he is relit to the life we share.

I break the new person’s heart and trust to go back to what I know I’ve loved all along – the man that loves me just as much and is emotionally available enough to show me.

I hate myself for this. Hurting one, two, three, four … people. For what?

The fourth time… I fell profoundly, wildly in love with a woman. I only thought I wanted to play around and decide if it was even possible to love a woman. We clicked instantly. We understood each other. The attraction was so intense and so deep. I’m told this is normal between two females... that the connection is stronger than anything that could ever be felt between a man and a woman. I do not know if this is true. No two people love or feel the same so how could any one person could truly define the capabilities of love throughout an entire species.

But he came back for me… as he always does. And I found myself stretched and stuck all at once. Beyond myself with how to choose between these two beautifully flawed individuals who were willing to give me so much love – because, of course, he was available then.

I chose him.

I broke her but I couldn’t let go of her. I offered to let go to let her move on and find happiness. She was as awe-struck as I was. We didn’t want to let go.

I broke him by loving her while being with him.

Again and again it came down to the wire for a year – he would mark a spot in the sand and say choose. Again and again I chose him.

Her heart and mine broke down and the love was more and more strained by reality, life, and circumstances.

I chose him again.

She moved on… he went void.

I hurt. I tried to rebuild. I tried to forgive. I apologized with all of the sincerity and love in my heart. And we bobbed gently down the river in the same direction occasionally bumping off one another. Existing in this empty shell of friendship, with physical proximity, and the rare sighting of hope. For a year I felt alone and empty but I continued with the assumption of us.

He’s broken.

My indiscretion is unforgivable.

My error was loving too much. My error was forgiving. My error was in wanting my partner present.

I forgave and forgave and forgave… and now I must move forward.

My insides are beyond weak. I’m lost in myself. I want to move on but I’m scared to hurt another… scared to hurt myself... scared to trust... scared to be let down again… scared to live.

I will go. But I am scared. I’m so fragile I feel a butterfly’s breath could break me.

I need you now more than ever.

Hold my hand?

If You Love Her Set Her Free?

Tonight… I miss everything about her.

I miss the softness of her buttery smooth skin. I miss the smell of her perfume entering a room just before her and demanding full attention of my senses. I miss the soft crisp texture of her recently tousled hair. I miss her sweet face and glowing smile. I miss the warmth of her touch. I miss the confidence she has even if it is misguided. I miss her lips on mine and the way they fit so perfectly together. I miss nibbling her bottom lip and hearing her groan. I miss the curve of her breasts. I miss the deliciousness in every inch of her. I miss her shyness. I miss the tattoo that wraps around her beautiful foot. I miss her sweet voice penetrating my thoughts. I miss her surprises. I miss her watching me. I miss her laugh. I miss her love.

I miss her.

They say your first love hurts the deepest. I want to find a new her... But all I’d ever do is compare them to her. I fear it would be a waste.

No one could touch me like her. No one could put me at ease like her. No one could taste like her. No one could ever be as clean as her. No one could purr like her. No one could love me like her.

All of this because I heard a song… She is that song. … Because there ain’t ‘nothing about you [her]’ that don’t do something for me.

God, how I miss her.

I hope she finds her peace. I hope she finds her happiness. I hope she feels complete. I hope she loves her life. I hope she feels loved. I hope they take care of her. I hope they spoil her right back. I hope she learns to let them in. I hope she lets go of all the past and focuses on her now. I hope the world for her. I hope no one hurts her.

I’m not her girl anymore. Someone else will be her girl. I am a fading memory now.

It hurts.

But nothing was ever on our side, and she deserves to be happy. She loves so completely. She deserves to feel that in return – forever and always. I just wish the ache would stop. But I think a little part of my heart is dying without her. I will be strong for her. I will let her have peace from me.

I will always remember her.

I will always love her.

What is Friendship Anymore?

At any given moment in my life, I can stop and reflect on who my friends are. I surround myself with these people with whom I share time, love, respect, and mutual likenesses. I treat them, care for them, and protect them... as if they are my world.

Recently this part of my world seems to be changing… draining. The people I held most dear have recently turned into nothing more than a mirage. I trusted and put myself into their lives. Giving them any heart and understanding that I could give, with a passion for their lives similar to the passion they had for their own… sometimes more.

Maybe I’m naive but I love with all of me. And my friends have my love… seemingly now and always. But the people I was giving myself over to… don’t seem to have that same passion or love for me.

A woman I allowed into my life as a best friend, an ex to my now ex, turned my love upside down. I worked with her to help her. I had patience for her and the complexity of her life and the mean people around her. I took her son in at a time when I could have turned against them… given my life, given my history. I could have been a doubtful person. Instead I opened my arms. I owned her pain as my own. I was a shoulder to cry on, a hand to hold, a body to stand strong against the storm winds with, I was a friend and a companion in dark days. Not without my moments of temperament, not perfect… because I never will be… but I was good to her.

Any sane woman would have balked at the idea of her man’s ex moving into his apartment. I didn’t. Instead I embraced with love and compassion

But when her emotions and temperaments got too much I spoke up against the behavior… not even against the woman, just the behavior… because she was, after all, my friend and I loved her.

For this… I was discarded… answered with threats of her poor situation. I was told it wasn’t my place to speak; it wasn’t my right nor my home. My insides ripped open and in pain I lashed out. Lashed at him, lashed at her, lashed out at myself.

He took her side.

How could he take her side? He agreed about her behavior. But he still took her side. Not my place. Not my right. My voice feels stolen again. And the rip in my heart goes deeper… and the blood is everywhere.

Everything inside of me feels out of place. Everything in my life feels upside down.

I gave all of myself because that is who I am. Now, I don’t know how to continue. Now, I don’t know where to continue. I don’t want to be selfish, I want to be selfless. And now, all I feel is emptiness.

Then came Toni… and I've embraced her with all that I have.

Worn Panties?

Attempting to re-enter the dating scene I find myself ungodly bored with all of it.  Sick of viewing pictures of the same stuck up, pretentious men.  Sick of reading the same bullshit lines about wanting a girl who ‘takes care of herself’.  Seriously, why don’t they just say ‘I’m looking for a fucking twig, no one else need apply’.  I’m sickened by the amount of men who stick to this gross idea of beauty.  But it is what it is, and frankly I don’t want a prick that thinks anything less than curvy is gorgeous!

I used to spend hours at the gym every night.  And do you know what I had time for with that lifestyle?  No one!  My life revolved around keeping those two hours set aside for the gym every night.  It’s fun.  But honestly when I live my life with a partner, I want my life to be about myself and my partner together. 

My ex and I used to go to the gym together.  And he’d watch t.v. and laugh.  Hang with his pals and show off.  Really, it was not any bit considered quality time. If anything it made me miss him more because our time was more spent apart in site of each other than together.

So, to all those assholes who feel the need to emphasize a girl’s ability to ‘take care of herself’ on their profile… all they are truly looking for is a girl with a high metabolism.  And all I can think is ‘good fucking luck’ because in the good ole’ U. S. of A. girls with hips are more in abundance.

To add to my boredom on the dating scene I recently ran into the sexiest situation I’ve endured in YEARS!!  Yes, my friends, years!  I posted some panties and a matching bra to sell online.  This stuff was new with tags and had zero sexuality added to the sales pitch.  I just wanted to make a few bucks off of something I will never wear.  Simply.

But I received a message back from someone asking what else I might have available.  I mentioned the numerous other pairs of panties I have, with tags.  They pushed further saying clearly I had some style and the natural curves to fill the panties I was selling, but wondered what used items I had.  Finding this rather curious, I acknowledged and offered some of the soon-to-be-tossed panties I have in the back of my drawer. 

He then admitted his gender… admitted his interest in these newly mentioned items… and the desire not only to purchase them but to have them freshly worn upon purchase.  I was totally skeeved out!  But given my current financial situation I bit the bullet and decided to play along. 

He mentioned a lap dance, getting closer, watching me remove these panties, etc.  Okay, ya’ll know I’m not a damn church choir girl here.  I’ve been naughty.  This shit is just about right up my alley, but I don’t know this dick from Adam.  I don’t know how old he is… what he REALLY wants to do to me… how far he is willing to go, etc. 

My mom points out the obvious… that this is a cop and I’m setting my ass up to get placed in jail.  Dually noted, but seriously, I was just trying to sell a brand new pair of unworn panties, I didn’t ask for any of this shit!! And I’d happily cry entrapment should it come down to it. 

We chat playfully back and forth.  As much as I’m becoming turned on by this entire idea, I’m also confused by his disinterest in texting me.  I’m thinking he has got to be married.  Fair enough, I think, as long as he doesn’t touch me… I can live with myself.  I avoid his every attempt to get closer or see a little more from me.  Following some due diligence.  I set up a safe exchange location.  I tell a coworker where I will be.  I even gave her his phone number should I disappear mid-exchange. I was ready for almost anything.  Except… that!!!

He was fucking gorgeous!  He met me with a glowing smile.  If I wasn’t already in heat from knowing what was going down his eyes added to it.  He was sweet as hell… kind, careful, and sexy.  It was a delicious encounter.  I had already set all the ground rules… he couldn’t touch me, and we absolutely would not be somewhere alone.   I’d all but screwed myself out of this charming encounter.  Damn me!!!

And just as satisfying were his thoughts of me.  How beautiful, smart, sexy, and fun.  Argh.  Damn intelligence, due diligence, and safety!!!  I wanted him, instantly!

We texted… all… day!  He had me… all that he wanted me, he could have me.  But suddenly he was smarter… he knew better and he wasn’t giving in.  He knew I’d fall like a sinker for him.  So I keep wondering… why can’t hot, curve-loving men like this one be on the damn dating sites?  Why do all these sexy 30 year old men think they are too damaged? Fuck that baby, I know damage and it is not anywhere near him. 

Suddenly the standard dating site is ten times more boring.  Blah!!!  Booooo-rrrr-iiinng asshole... they all are compared to Mr. Wants-My-Panties.  And since then he has been stuck in my head.  I just keep wishing I hadn’t been so safe.  I’m also looking further into this worn-panty selling business.  I joined a site.  We shall see how this goes.  Anyone have any advice, on either front?

I See... Shit?

You hear these abstract stories about the pretty girl having it easier.  People like her more so she has it easier in life.  I thought this was a fat girl's line.  I thought that was bullshit.  But hey... listen to this fat girl.

Suddenly I'm working beside a runway model (some clear exaggeration should be inferred here) and that line is finding some truth in my eyes.  Suddenly I'm the backseat driver. 

... I'll take care of the paperwork while she works the front lines.  I'll make the coffee so she can hand it out.  I'll crawl under the machine so she can shine from above.

I'm getting sick.  Not that I don't have my own insecurity bullshit to deal with.  But I'm tripping over myself.  I bust my ass for nearly four years... she walks in and in under one year she has them all tickled.  She says... you don't want to look like me, I'm just there to look at. 

Fuck that, I want to shine!  I want to be the prize!  I want the long tan legs that make men stupid and weak.  But the grossest thing to me is that we've submitted to using her.  Send her here, send her there, have her work that event or this one... but be sure to wear your pretty little skirt.  Gag!

I try not to talk about work, but this constant reminder is helping me to break down on a daily basis.  I try not to see all the differences in treatment... but they are screaming in my god damned face!

I'm envious, green, jealous, and I'm making myself sick with it.  If only I felt sick enough to stick a finger down my throat maybe this game of bullshit could be over with.

But maybe it won't ever be... not because I'm fat, short, pale as a ghost, with curls of chaos... but because I'm opinionated, bitchy, passionate, controlling, and overly honest.  I call it like I see it, and as she loves to remind me, you can't do that... we have to treat them like children.  With kids gloves gently caressing their sensibilities. 

I'm too busy stroking my own insecurities.  And this one has me questioning if I want to stay here much longer... because daily I look in the mirror... and I see shit.  Unhappy, unhealthy, negative, gray matter in oblivion.  If I were them... I'd pick her too.

Skip - Repeat - Skip - Repeat - Repeat - Repeat

Feeling my way through the darkness
Guided by a beating heart
I can't tell where the journey will end
But I know where to start
They tell me I'm too young to understand
They say I'm caught up in a dream
Life will pass me by if I don't open up my eyes
Well that's fine by me

So wake me up when it's all over
When I'm wiser and I'm older
All this time I was finding myself
And I didn't know I was lost
[x2]

I tried carrying the weight of the world
But I only have two hands
I hope I get the chance to travel the world
But I don't have any plans
Wish that I could stay forever this young
Not afraid to close my eyes
Life's a game made for everyone
And love is the prize

So wake me up when it's all over
When I'm wiser and I'm older
All this time I was finding myself
And I didn't know I was lost
[x2]

I didn't know I was lost
I didn't know I was lost
I didn't know I was lost
I didn't know I was lost

 

 

No need to wake me...

Looking Back Toward Tomorrow

I look back through old posts.  I hear back to old conversations.  I think back to old feelings.  Its all so similar.  I'm stuck, but I have no one to blame but myself.

I hate what I read, hear, think and see each day anew.  I don't want to be here. But I don't want to be anywhere...

The depression is thick today... yesterday... this week. It's like I'm searching for an answer, to what I don't know.  And my search is endless, relentless.

I want there to be a him. I want it to feel whole. I want someone who wants to be there to remind me when these days come.  And yet, this very thought feels naive and stupid.  We are fooled by fairy tales, movies, hallmark.  Believing everyone finds a happily ever after feels like one of the most self-defeating thoughts I could ever have.

But my world isn't only about a him.  It's about a career I enjoy. It's about an at ease state of mind.  It's about a  consciousness.  It's about a belief in positive self-worth.   I want these things to feel attainable.  Right now, none of them do.

It's crushing me, swallowing me, suffocating me past a point I can stand.

I see no future, no hope, no serenity...

I see my faults , and they're not getting any better.  My bosses love to point them out. Despite all of the good I can and will do, we focus unrelenting on my lack of motivation and initiative. I walk in wanting better of and for myself... but somewhere I drop the ball and never deliver without deadline or demand. I lose myself in anything that will take me. But I still do not feel whole.

The relationship is so played. Over and over the same verse. I make myself sick. I want to force myself to be different. But I'm not. I ask for more, I demand more... it is not delivered.  And again I feel at fault... because I believed, because I trusted, because I wanted it to be true.  Instead it just hurts.

One would hope that the hurt would hurt a little less each time.   But it doesn't. Because each time I am more let down than the last, not only with him but with myself for believing all over again.

So despite reading back, on what should be my past and hoping for change; I fear I'm more-or-less reading forward, just as much, into my future... and the depression thickens.

I Wish I Knew

I feel like I don't know anything anymore. I thought I knew what I was doing. I was so sure... so resolved. But now, I have no idea what is right. I don't know what I want or how I plan to get there. I'm so lost. I've loved him since the day I met him. The kindest, sweetest, most loving and compassionate man. Then the whole world turned on its axis and not only was he no longer that man... he had become mean in many instances and more often than not incapable of compassion. But how do I change what I see when I look at him? He was so beautiful and I find myself incapable of seeing anything else. I still find him so sexy. I still warm at his touch... when he dares to reach for me. He smile melts me. The good I see in him is unscathed. And each time I close my eyes these two separate souls are still coming from the same body. He thinks I hate him. All this ache I feel us not born of hate, it is born of love. I wish to have him whole, happy, open, loving, and compassionate as my soul mate. It all hurts. I don't know that I want to breathe without him. Maybe I am weak... beyond weak. But I don't want to let him go. God I love him so much. I wish I could love him enough to get him to stay open with me. I wish I could love him enough that he'd stop lashing out with hurtful words breaking those that love him most in an easy breath of arrogance. I wish I knew. I wish I had the dedication and resolve enough to love him despite everything. But when the emptiness comes again... I fear I'll break. I wish... I wish I knew what to do. God, someone take away this pain and tell me what to do.

Empty

Don't speak... don't part your lips... don't bare words... don't shape the air that escapes.  Do not move your fingers... hit the keys... slide across the board... or share your thoughts as they flow.  Nothing I could say or share would ease this uneasiness.

Each time I start to look through my contacts... someone to talk to, someone to reach out to, someone to share with I feel myself recoil.  There is nothing to say.  There is nothing I could say that wouldn't sound completely assinign, absurd, meaningless, pety, dumb, and pathetic.  So I don't. 

I have built up this wall of friends and family... an aresinal of people who care, who listen, who want to support me.  But I can't stop or shake this feeling that everything I could possibly say is irritating and useless. 

I don't want to talk to anyone.  I'm in hiding.  I'm shut down.  I feel lost.  And even in my loss I don't want to question because I hear myself in my head... and I don't want to hear either.  I feel so empty and so full all at once. 

When I should probably be reaching out most, I find myself hiding from the hands that reach for me.  I don't know what to do or how to fix... anything.  But everything feels wrong... everything about me and around me. I want to run. 

I've felt this way for a couple weeks now.  I don't know whether there is an end.  I just feel empty...

Want Better

New Level of Confusion

Undeniably... I find myself lost and confused. But I feel like I've hit an all new level. Things that I had found familiar and comfortable, suddenly seem rocky and unsteady. The very foundation of the home you love is no longer stable. Where do you step when all of the rock around you is loose?

I felt like in some ways I was finding myself and building... onward, upward, in a general forward motion. I was working on me. I was working on being better and stronger. I felt more confidant and loved. I thought I was doing the right, positive things. But suddenly none of that seems to be the case.

Nothing seems familiar. Nothing seems easy. Nothing seems justified or fair. Nothing really makes much sense in my life at all. Nothing seems to have a purpose. And strangely, very little even seems to have a value.

I had built myself with strength. I had grown up enough to know what I needed and wanted. So why then do I feel so much like I've slipped? I've slipped so far there is barely anything left to grab at. I don't even recognize my own happiness right now. Many of my days are filled with depression. I don't even know what I'm living for.

I imagine my feelings to be similar to those of Keanu Reeves in the first movie of The Matrix. Or maybe Tom Cruise in the Minority Report. Suddenly everything you believe to be true and real just doesn't seem to be as true or right anymore.

I keep thinking I need to sit down and write goals. Write down what I know and what makes me happy. I need to establish what it is I truly want. Establish where I want to go and who I want to take with me. Because if I only ever wander aimlessly, I can never really hope to be successful at... whatever it is I haven't established... right?

Compounded... I had one of the roughest sessions with my current therapist that I've ever had with any. I already felt lost. But everything she said seemed to point me further into a sense of loss and personal failure.

"Why stay with her?", a few people have asked... and I'm not entirely sure what to say. Mainly because I don't think at this current state of depression and confusion I could handle going it without some sense of theraputic guidance. I think the only session that has ever hurt this much before was when my previous therapist told me she was moving away. But that wasn't personal, so despite the hurt I felt, as an intellectual human being... I could move past it.

Maybe she's sick of me? Maybe I just really am that big of a failure at picking myself up? Maybe I just focus too much on my strengths that I build myself into a false sense of security? Maybe she was trying to show me tough love? Maybe she felt I was being too niave?

Normally I'd take my confusion to her and she'd

help me find myself... find my own direction. But now I don't even know where to go. I didn't know what to do or how to fix it when I walked into her office. And now the image has been pushed back even further... not only do I see the center mass of chaos, I see the surrounding edges melting into the same messiness.

Right now, nothing feels right... and surely nothing feels safe. I'm unhappy with everything I am and everything I know. I want to fix it, but when all of what you see is a black mess... where do you start? I'd rip off the page and get a new damn sheet of paper. I don't want this one anymore. But what do I do when I don't want this life anymore?

Crushed

I feel lost. I know this isn’t a new feeling... but it is where I am.

I feel stuck in an in-between. I’m trying to let go of something… and trying to grab a hold of something. I’m trying to learn new things... while still impressing upon the old. I’m trying to be happy... and embrace new power and temptations without submerging in the moment.

All of me is struggling. Little me, big me, old me, and new me. I want to be better. And yet, I look up sometimes and I see all the weaknesses I always had. I see all the struggles I thought I’d overcome. I want to be strong enough to walk away. Not just walk away because I need to, but to walk away because I fucking can... and that knowledge is my power.

It’s like I just flung my body into the deepest water I could find. And maybe... I'm drowning.

At twenty-seven... I’m beginning to wonder if I will ever be the person I want to be. Happy, successful, in love, with a family, and confidence… real confidence... for once in my life. Not this bullshit I spew to make them believe or potentially even fool myself into believing. But for once, whole, sincere knowledge of my value.

My insides feel crushed today, paralyzed by emotions I just don’t want. I never know when it is safe to trust myself... let alone all the others.

I open so completely... I open myself to the pain. When will I learn. Learn to stop letting myself be hurt and choked by my own saliva. Crushed by my own desire for more.

Like everytime I cross the road and I envision myself being struck by a car. I know what it really is, I know it is my own dangerous thoughts... and I allow myself to cross. It's just my imagination. It's all in my poisonous fucking head. All this fear. I don't want to be afraid anymore. I'm sick of holding back. I'm sick of being the person with logic.

What if I let go? Fuck... what kind of bullshit am I trying to spin? I could never fucking let go!! Wrapped up tighter than a balloon string... I could never be free like that. Instead... I just hurt. Instead... I am crushed.

Kind Hearts So Far Away

I moved around a lot growing up.  Every time I would start to feel at home in my home something would change.  A parent would dream of greener pastures and I was uprooted and moved.  There were small moves, just up the road, but most of them were big.  From city to city and from state to state.

Every new home we had, I'd find a new friend.  I don't even remember how I did it half the time.  I guess I was brave.  I'd find someone and the conversation would start and just grow from there. 

I latched quickly.  I invested myself in them. I loved them completely.  Where they went, I went.  What they wanted, I wanted them to have.  Any fears they had, I wanted to squash.  Any dreams they had, I wanted to help them achieve. 

... and then we'd move again.  So, here I am at twenty-seven years old and I have friends everywhere.  But worse... I don't have a friend here.

As this person that lived to be a part of others' lives, having so little contact breaks my heart.  Lately this pain is at a head. 

This pain is probably so prevelant because in the last two years I've lost (physical proxmity with) three of the most special women I've ever had the pleasure of knowing in my life.  The roommate who became like a sister to me the day she moved in, moved back south.  An old coworker who had become a close friend moved back west.

But the hardest of all has been the loss of my cousin, my best friend.  She was my snuggle, cuddle buddy.  She was a sweet smile, soft heart, and warmth in my soul everyday.  Strong, smart, loving, just purely amazing.  I miss her.  ... she moved to find work because of this shitty ass economy.

Everyday I think about it, it breaks my heart a little more.  It hurts to miss all my friends so much.  And it hurts to feel so alone here, without any of them.  It's been a hard couple of years.  I want them back.

I don't even feel like I know how to make friends anymore.  To feel so busy and be surrounded by so many people and to feel lonely.  It's hard.

I want to bring all these girls back and be surrounded by all the amazing love and kindness our friendships were born from. My heart aches. I miss these beautiful, amazing women that I got to know when I was growing up.

Could It Be That Simple?

I’ve decided I must be somewhere stuck in the in-between of relationship end and single person. I’m resolved to the fact that this will indeed end. Somehow, some way, some day… this will end. Physically I’m still with this person. I see him daily, we share a bed, and his touch still warms me. But mentally and emotionally I just want to complete the separation.


I want peace from something that was and won’t continue. Emotionally, I am drained of all possible effort… hope and I know better now. I know we are past effort. But that does not stop the piece of me that always wants to fix, the piece of me that lives to please my other… from wanting.

I care how he sleeps, that he feels contented, that he doesn’t hurt. But in all my cares I am reminded of the simple fact that makes this relationship moot. … He does not care. He simply is not capable of caring, empathizing, or understanding.

So, in front of me it lives… breathes, eats, thinks, touches, and yearns… but inside of me it just hurts. An emptiness that has swallowed the last three years of my life. A picture that hung on my wall and has now been taken down to leave an awkward nail imbedded in my wall.

I long to hang something new. I want to create my path to the life I deserve. Because for the last few years, with him, it hasn’t really been a life at all… just the physical act of living.

God, it hurts to push for this emptiness knowing how much I have loved him. How much I have sacrificed while staying with him… having gone back to him… and loving him and his family as my own. Completely unbeknownst to him... because I think in his eyes I am useless, selfish, uncontrolled chaos. But really that’s just my impression of his thoughts because communication is so far from his ability.

To be in love with someone who is emotionally unavailable is to be suffocated by the very breath you need to survive. I prayed that it would become breathable, but unless it would be willing and take action to change it merely would not be breathable. Hope alone does not will something to be… no matter how hard you or I try.

It took me almost three years to recognize this. It took me almost three years to give up hope. It took almost three years of my life away. Life is far too short to be handing my years away.

I want to be loved, hell, I want to be liked! I deserve these things. I can give so much. I love so completely. I communicate honestly, openly, regularly. I deserve someone who wants to love and be emotionally available to me. It’s that simple.

Emotional availability… could it be that simple? Yes, yes… I think it is. I can do this. I’m going to get there. Because I can’t have kids until I’m there. I want kids…

Lost and Not Found

I woke up but I’m not sure why. Like normal I’m floating in a fucking chasm on a seemingly endless journey to nowhere. I want an end point to work towards. I want a past to savor. And I want a present that makes each day worth waking for.

I guess I should start by telling you I just read all of the Shades of Gray trilogy, within a week. I really loved it. I loved that in my imagination she could be plain-Jane as opposed to what we will see as soon as she is casted for the to-be movie. I was in love with all of it. At first I was nervous for her, Ana, but quite quickly I just became engrossed in all of it.

Here I am, post-shades and I’m lost. I miss the characters. I’m desperate to know how they are. I’m desperate to enjoy their lives and see that it all works out.

I’m desperate to be alive like that. Is reality like that? Do men that hold your hand, watch you breathe while you sleep, protect, and cherish you really exist? Someone so selfless and so in love that they would give up their heart just to have yours back in return?

This isn’t just about finding the right love, because god knows and I know that I don’t have him. This is about being alive and belonging. Fitting within yourself, your home, your work, your body… everywhere you go. Belonging to something, feeling a part of something.

I feel so lost. I guess I’m almost to the point where I don’t even think I’ll be found. Is that why I can’t push him away?

I just want to be found.

The Warmth

There may be something about the slow sizzle of spring that makes me so weak. We talk about spring fever in an escence of teasing desire, but what it really truly means has nothing to do with being a teenager in love.

This warmth flows over my body and I long to be laying on a blanket in the grass beside you. I long to feel heat radiating from your body encompassing my desire with one ebb of air.

I want to reach out and touch you. I want to listen to your heartbeat with my ear pressed firmly to your chest. I want to run my fingers over the soft skin on your arms. To feel the dimple of your elbow and the kiss of sweat on the inside of it. To run my fingers through your hair and watch your eyes droop at the soothing sensation.

So many things about my desires just don't fit. So much of who I am just doesn't work with us. But no matter the ill-fit of our lives, I still want to breathe you.

I wish I could change it. You, me, us... but I can't. Nothing of this is changeable. This has all proven too much. We touch for what... habit, lust, fear, regret?

So here I am wishing it could be like that again. Here I am wishing to embrace all the warmth that is embracing me this season. I miss you. It hurts inside knowing that I chose this. I chose to come back to this stuckness.

I read back on the things I've had, the people I've met, the way we touched. It makes me sore. I want to be alive. I want to feel. To be the passionate person I was born to be and embraced for all that I bring to this relationship.

Someday I will picnic again. Someday I will lay beside a man that loves me for me. Someday I will be brave enough to walk away and find what I deserve. But until then this warmth will continue to melt me.

Who's Voice?

I try to understand the voice I hear, but it is garbled. There are sounds and thoughts of emphasis that pull at me and grab my attention, but more often than not I just don't understand that voice.

The new me is so many people all at once... mother, daughter, lover, care-taker, friend, nurse, gardener, home owner, employee, creator, and confidante. With all these voices bouncing around my head, the hum of self barely exists.

Probably the most pressing at the moment is that I'm the rather new mother of a teenage boy. Nowadays, teens have enough pain and emotion to process for even the very best birth parent to handle; but I'm not even that. And to top it off, I'm only ten years older than my kid.

I love this child... I hurt when he hurts... I feel when he feels. I want to hold him and protect him but the little shit is bigger than I am, by about a foot! I'm such a huggy, lovey person but with this relationship I have to figure out new boundaries. I have to be strong where I would normally be weak. I have to smile where I would normally cry. This tests me to the core, but I can't help it, because I love him and I will continue to support him.

When everything around me feels such a wreck, I know that I have to be stable. I have to be the strength to hold him up when he feels like diving under. I'm tired beyond tired. I drive out of my way by 45 minutes to take him to school every morning and to pick him up every evening. But no matter how complex my life or surroundings could be, I find strength... for him.

I didn't raise him from birth so I didn't instill in him the values I find of the utmost importance. Probably the most difficult we struggle with is lying. Down to my deepest bone I believe in honesty. I live as true and forthright as I can bare to be. And he lies. He lies so much I'm not sure what to believe. I want to trust him, believe him, support him... but how do you support something when you don't even know that it's real?

I've given him blind faith and been led astray. I want to teach him better. I keep thinking if he just trusts me enough he'll stop lying,... but I ultimately don't know that. One major aspect of raising a teen is knowing that they make their own decisions, and merely attempting to shape their choices without force.

With all of these new aspects in my life, each day is tiring. I have all these voices screaming at me to be this or to be that. When each day all I want to be is me... better and better, me. Why can't I just hear me?  Maybe I could be stronger if I could just hear my voice a little bit more.

The Choice

Since my last post, there has been a storm and it seems my life has turned completely up-side-down. So much so, that I'm not even sure I know what to write. But I feel I must write something because I am feeling so many things and I need to update the status of all things confucius.

Ex did a complete 180. Everything I had succumbed to knowing about him changed, again. The man I decided to let go of 15 months ago suddenly popped back into my life. He decided he didn't want to be without me and he did not want to share me. He decided his standards and inescapable desire for perfection were a bit off whack and all he really wanted was me.

I loved this man for nearly two years... how could I walk away from this opportunity? Maybe I am fucking nuts. Because Doc was/is amazing. He is the type of man any woman would (should) feel very blessed to have. So here I am faced with walking away from a beautiful idea of love, trust, and commitment to figure out if what I had is still what I want.

My heart twisted and pounded to the point where I thought my throat might burst. But I had to do what I know how to do - communicate and process. I went to my best friend, my mother. I told her all of what I saw in them. The thousands of fears facing me to go back to ex. The hundreds of hypothetical dreams in front of me with Doc.

I talked to ex for hours on the phone. I listened to his voice... the voice I fell in love with. I heard it crack, drop, and whisper so many things I had been waiting and wanting to hear. And then I knew... I wasn't over him. The thought of having this man back? This funny, beautiful, sweet, sexy, smart, and loving man back. I wanted him. Maybe I am one thousand times wrong but this is where my heart is, unless he breaks it again.

And then the jagged rock dropped to the pit of my stomach... I had to tell Doc. I had to tell this perfectly innocent, pure, and love-inspiring man that I was leaving him. Leaving him for what? ... a glance at my past? ... a hopeful dream? ... a theoretical man that let me down because it was easier?

Fuck - more than anything in the world I did not want to tell him. I wanted to just hold his hand, kiss him, and tell him how amazing he is. ... But none of that would change what I feel for ex. None of that would suddenly make my heart stop longing or my tummy stop aching for ex.

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

You meet the sweetest child at the orphanage and somehow after filling out all the paperwork, praying, holding each other close, painting walls, and dreaming... the reality breaks and someone tells you it's just not going to happen. Can you imagine the hurt that child must feel? My heart aches for him and the pain I've caused.

I'm not sure whether I border on stupidity or insanity. But I love ex, we will now call him Blue Eyes. And as much as I may love Doc, it just wasn't the same, yet.

For that I feel condemned. I feel hated and washed out. I feel like I played an evil trick and even though I saw the humor at one point, now all I see is the pain and wreckage. I fucking hate myself for this.

Maybe I wasn't ready to move on... and now Doc is paying for my mistake. I think I just break him further the more I try to help ease the blow. It feels like a failure. I am trying hard to do right by him, trying to do right by everyone around me, but in the end - I have to do what is right by me! I have to live with my choice. I feel I did what was right for me, at this time. Maybe if it were a few months down the road and I had seen all of what Doc was offering would remain a reality... I would have stayed. But it isn't months down the road and people change in the blink of an eye.

I love Blue Eyes and unless I break myself of him (which I haven't)... I cannot be true to another. I feel those around me mocking my decision. But with everyday I fall closer to him. He is the man I fell in love with over a year ago. He holds me, touches me, inspires me, and talks to me the way we always wanted him to. He wanted this too, he just didn't know how. Together we will figure that out. I just wish I didn't feel so hated for making a choice ... I'm sorry.

I'm just trying to be the best me I can be... I hope you understand.