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.

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…

Starving

I don’t know where I am. I feel like I am drowning. And worse yet, I know I am and I can’t do anything to stop it. I flail, scream, kick, and cry… and still I sink deeper. I fight to be stronger… and the new muscle weighs me down even more.

I feel so alone. Surrounded by actions, by people, and by words… but I am still alone. I try to grab his hand and continually fall flat. His hands are slippery, busy, and unattainable. Maybe he does not want to be attained and more often he does not want to offer a hand. I want his love so much, I dare to open my mouth and scream… even though it puts me at greater risk for swallowing more water, drowning.

I met a man that was strong, smart, honest, loyal, loving, devoted, giving, secure, and compassionate… just as compassionate as I am. Speaking of … “do unto others…” He no longer does. It is now a reflection all about ‘me’. “I have to be me”… “I have feelings too”... I want him to feel, I want him to be happy. But how can I make this happen when he will no longer let me in?

I feel like, for once, I opened my eyes and I saw the most beautiful sunset the world could ever create. The symmetry, the colors, the brightness, the waves crashing into it… it had me melting. But I opened my eyes just in time to see a blink of it and in that moment I lost my eye-sight. Now I see nothing. Now I am alone. All I have is the remnants of the sun’s original warmth and the passing essence of light. I’ve lost the very thing I would have waited an eternity to see.

Working so hard to be me. Working so hard to be strong. Working so hard to be a better human being. I am doing so well. Each day I find new insights-I learn and adapt from them. I am pleased to be in a place in my life where I finally feel like I could get better. I finally feel like I could be stronger than the sum of my misfortunes.

But am I losing him … I feel as though I have already lost.

I cry myself to sleep night after night. I discolor my pillow in mascara-stained tears. I take a sleeping pill and pray my head will go silent. All my fears, thoughts, judgments should be hushed by its strength. I want to breathe him. I want to feel all of that love that was once there. Instead I am held at some unreal boundary … unable to step forward …and in fear of that step because the next foot may have no floor. I cry for his hand. I cry to feel that wholeness we shared in the beginning.

When he stepped away… he said I was replaceable. He said he could go on without me. He proved to all of us, including himself… that he can go on without me. He walks away with ease each time. How is one to feel loved, honored, desired in light of this?

I don’t.

The touch takes so much effort. And when I thank him for it; he says… well you were good yesterday. I feel I am being punished. I feel I am being trained and controlled. I will let him control me so long as I can have him completely. But, if I am so replaceable, what is the point?

With each fight of distance he proves how easy it is for him to walk away. How can a person ever feel safe in a relationship like this? And even more, stay strong enough to make them feel safe in it? My heart is so broken. We were so in love… in love within days… in love so completely, both of us… not just me. Now, I feel like it is just me.

He made me feel like an amazing, smart, honest, lovable, beautiful, pure goodness. Now I just feel broken, tarnished, molded and generally like trash. He kissed me, he looked at me, he saw me, he held me. With nothing else around he would just look at me and see. And love me still. He saw me and wanted me, despite me flaws, despite my imperfections. He made me feel like I would always be good enough for him.

I made a mistake in trusting him. Trusting us. Believing in us. Fighting for us.

It has been an unmentionable number of months since I really felt him. Felt him love me completely, honestly, with every ounce of himself. He wants me to see value in his every effort. There is value, tremendous value… but for how long am I supposed to say thank you when what I really need to say is … please love me.

… Months since he called me beautiful, I am supposed to be patient and wait. Meanwhile all I can see is how disgusting I am. I am ashamed of myself. Terrified that it is so hard to say because he doesn’t really believe it. Otherwise… why would it take so long? Why would it be so hard? I am starting to wonder what others would think of me. They called me beautiful and sexy over and over. I felt it. I felt like I might be. But now… I am starving to hear it.

… Months since he looked me in the eyes and said he wanted to make love to me. I hold my breath praying he will want me. I wish he would take me, take my hand, kiss me, run his hands all over my skin and cherish me. I ask. Now he just touches me because I asked, not because he actually wanted to. He does not see me and wish to take my clothes off. His erection is a whim, not actually inspired or signifying desire. Why? Again, I am disgusted with myself. I shower over and over … scraping angrily at my skin… wishing it felt more touchable. I don’t want anyone else’s hands… but I am starving.

… Months since I have caught him looking at me lovingly. I feel worthless to look at. I never believed I would think of myself as worth looking at. But they thought I was. That was all that mattered. I feel stone-cold and neglected. He says he looks, sees me, and finds himself loving. Somehow I never see this? Before I saw it all the time. I felt his eyes, the warmth of his kiss, his hands. I felt his love. Now I feel so little. The little I get, I must beg for… and I am starving for more.

Everything has a reason. Every time there is a reason why I can’t have it. There is a reason why he is not willing to give it. There is a reason why his time is no longer available. When is it enough? When do I stop hoping he will come back to loving me, honestly, fully, whole-heartedly? Do I give up? Or Do I fight harder?

What I had is worth fighting for…

We went to lunch and talked. I felt heard and loved. Every day he made time to see me, to love me, to be with me. He surprised me and treasured me unexpectedly. Then he ran out of time. I would have to be happy with internet time. We talked for hours. We always had something to say, we would not run out of words. Then he doesn’t have internet time… I must suffer with a few text messages. Sweet nothings, reminding me he is thinking of me. Lastly, there is no time for that. I am barely a part of this world. I wanted to be a part of this world. Slowly he is pushing me out. And the only explanation is that I am asking too much, unreasonably from him. All these changes… I am supposed to be okay, I am supposed to be understanding, I am supposed to love what I can have and say thank you… even when I am starving. I must ignore my tummy’s grumblings… and thank him for trying so that he might be willing to give more again, someday.

And yet every time I try… it’s never enough. It’s never enough thank yous to get the more. This perfect relationship is no longer perfect. This incredible man has seemingly lost all interest. This loving man has vanished. I have to thank the man I have left for caring enough to stay behind. I’m crying. I’m alone.

I am starving. I do not want to be hungry any more. How can I fulfill this hunger? How can I stop feeling so empty? How can I continue to say thank you just to be rewarded, even if I’m still hungry. I don’t want a treat. I want him. I want his love.

Hate...

Oh my god... I hate myself so much!!! I need too much! I want to turn it off like a switch, a switch I am so sick of dragging around behind me, on top of me, covering me, smothering me.

The idea of time apart makes me sick. Makes my stomache churn, my body shiver, my heart pound, my throat soar, and my eyes well up. For him... nothing? For him... it is of no effect. For him... it is of no consequence. I thought I had found someone who wanted to be as wrapped up in me as I wanted to be wrapped up in him. But, I fear I was wrong... and now it is just an imbalance that I have to learn to live with. Learn to change myself... to not feel, need, or want.

Am I in too deep? I feel so deep and when it is good, I shine. When it is bad, I break and bleed. This thought has me wishing for a bridge, a really high bridge. I wonder if this love transferred over into an addiction and I missed it. I wonder if I feel something that isn't real. ... Artificially creating the world I need to feel safe, even if just for a moment. Wanting something I will never truly have. Wanting to be wanted and needed the way I want and need.

It comes in the beginning of a relationship. That false sense of perfection. For them it fades... but for me, it never goes away. My fucked up head won't let go. Won't let anything go!

I hate my mind, I hate my thoughts, I hate my tears, and I hate my feelings. Not one piece of me feels right. This is what I felt that night. There is no absolution. Just more pain.

I hate me! If only I didn't have to feel it all. I hate feeling.

Upside Down...

I wonder why I am sitting here... a quater past midnight. I wonder why I can't stop sobbing. I wonder when might these bouts of fear and doubt go the fuck away?

You're probably wondering where the hell I've been and what the hell I'm talking about. Approximately Christmas time I met someone. Everything was magical and pure.

I am pulling my same usual bullshit of running away. Why the hell am I running from something so completely magical?? Why do I seem to find every reason under the sun to be mad? There is nothing to be mad about. I have him. I have a wonderful, loving, honest, and giving man. ... But I'm still mad.

I have begun an intensive form of therapy to begin working on the things I need so desperately to fix about myself. To fix all the wrongs I learned as a child and have clung to as an adult. I want to be better than that. I want to be better than a string of poor excuses. Rape, incest, abuse, neglect... no matter the poison I must choose to be better than that. I must choose to live for me, for now, for life... and let go of all those pains.

This weekend I pushed him away harder than ever. I packed my things and called my mother for a ride. I stormed past him repeatedly taking my bags to the car one-by-one. I refused to make eye contact. I needed him to stop me.

My therapy has brought me upon a new topic I'd rather not approach... my father. I love him dearly. I see so many good things in him. We have had moments where I felt our bond was unbreakable. This is not that year. When I was 8 or so... I fell off the rocking chair in the living room. I cried out for him in the kitchen... he chose not to come. Lying on the floor in tears, this is how I seem to always be. An inexcusable mess of a human being unable to pick myself up without someone else telling me I am okay. My father didn't come... and when I told him I had fallen his best console was that I probably wouldn't use the rocking chair like that again... would I?

The mess applies in my relationships. I tell him the story of my father... and that very night the situation presents itself. A small fire starts on the stove and I yell for him... twice. The child beside him on the couch teaching him to play the video game says to him, "she's calling you". He stays still. Once I have the fire out and I have the pasta drained he strolls into the kitchen. His best response, "what could be so important about draining pasta"? I look at him with darts of hurt diving through my heart and out of my eyes into him.

I walk away. I eat dinner alone. I sleep on my edge of the bed. The next morning he walks in as if nothing has changed. "You coming with me to get the Brat?". ... that's what I get. Not an apology for his choosing to ignore me in that moment and through the night. I tell myself that I can't need him because I need him more than he is willing to be needed. I decide I must end all dependency. He leaves and I pack.

We spent the weekend apart. The first since the day we met. We have not spent hardly a pinch of time apart, not one full day. In the beginning he told me he loved that. He loved that I always wanted to be with him.

He didn't call. He didn't write. He didn't come... I cried. I cried sopping wet, fat tears into his shirt desperately sniffing any smell I could between sobs. I cried wishing he would come. I cried wishing I hadn't left. I cried praying I didn't just fuck up the best thing that had ever happened to me. Sunday afternoon I emailed him... without response. Monday morning I logged on to find more silence. Finally, I couldn't stand it...

"So this means were done then?"

No... we're not done, I hope. He spent the weekend relaxing with friends and pleasuring himself without me. I feel sick. I feel so completely sick! I feel useless, replacable, broken, and so fucked up!!

I try to tell him it sounds like he had a good weekend without me. He says... "Should I have sat around and cried all weekend? I know better than to waste my time being miserable, it doesn't help."

I try to tell him how replacable I feel. He says... "if you keep saying it, I'm going to start to believe it".

I try to tell him how... un-special I feel. He says... "how?"

I try to tell him I don't think he wants to be here with me. He says... "I wouldn't be here if I didn't want to be".

... Really? Not one word of reassurance. Not one... "I love you more than you will ever know! Yes, I hurt this weekend, but I had to go on for my kid. I hated being without you... only you." I feel empty. He tells me he can't reassure me all the time and that he can't always says exactly what I need to hear. But where does it end? I know I am demanding ... but throw me a fucking bone!!! Make me feel just a little like I matter because right now, I don't! Not one little bit!!

I lay in bed clothed, a very very rare occasion as you might guess. He asks why, and I tell him I don't feel safe yet. I tell him I don't now how to explain it and he warns me of farts. I tried again to talk... to tell him. He tells me to try, but I've tried, over and over. I can't right now, I have nothing left to give. All I can do is turn over and sob because somehow... I know I did this. I turned us upside down.

Honest to fucking god... how should I feel? It was magical. He made me feel real with kindness, hoesty, and loyalty. He made me feel heard. He made me feel special and one-of-a-kind. But what now? I love him so much! But now... I just feel upside down. Now... I don't know if it's fixable. The weekened I spent sobbing... I needed him to fix me.